


Some that live

by Nath



Series: Different Roads [11]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-08-16 23:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 76,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16505000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nath/pseuds/Nath
Summary: It is 3013, and Orcs are raiding and destroying Dúnedain farms in Eriador. Aragorn sets out to stop the raids. Alternate timeline leading up to the War of the Ring.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As I can at last start posting the story that ate my life for the last three and a half years, my thanks go out to Cairistiona, bunny-flinger and beta for this story, without whom it would be no more than a vague idea in my bunny list. Also a shoutout to everybody else who read (parts of) the story while I was writing, your input was more than welcome!

**3013, March 5**

“Gollum’s trail grows ever colder, but that is even more reason to go now.” Gandalf gave Aragorn a hard look. “You are more than just the Chieftain of the Dúnedain, and your captains will cope well enough with Eriador’s troubles for another season.”

Aragorn shook his head in annoyance and stood up. “The sooner Gollum is found the better, but if the Enemy were to re-establish a foothold in Angmar’s lands, it could be disastrous.” He raised his hand to stop Gandalf interrupting. “I know, not finding Gollum in time may be so as well. I _do_ know how important the hunt is, but–” _much as I understand your frustration, I_ _cannot be in two places at once_.Aragorn’s answer was cut short by a crunch of gravel on the path leading to their corner of Rivendell’s gardens.

“Captain?”

Aragorn took in the expression on the face of the Ranger who interrupted them.

He finished his answer to Gandalf. “But perhaps, if you can wait until autumn.” Glancing at the waiting man he added, “Though I fear it will not be before then.” He then nodded at the Ranger. “Halmir, you bring news?”

“I do, Captain. There have been more raids. The same as before, farms and hamlets in the Wild are attacked, people and livestock butchered, and the houses burned down.”

~*~

“That’s not necessary, sir,” Halmir protested as Aragorn led him to Elrond’s kitchens for something to eat and drink.

“Maybe not,” Aragorn replied, “but you’ll be glad of it before long. I doubt we’ll stop to eat after the maps come out.” Once his brothers had started including him in campaign planning, it had only taken him one or two hungry evenings spent around a map table to figure that out and take precautions.

“In that case, thank you, Uncle,” Halmir said with a quick smile.

Aragorn smiled back at his cousin as they sat down on a bench in the corridor near the kitchens. “It’s been too long since I was in Caras Dirnen. How are your mother and your brother?”

“Well enough,” Halmir replied. “Mother still wants to move south to Athrad, to grandmother Bereth’s cottage, but she won’t do so until Haldan is old enough to start his Ranger training.”

Aragorn nodded. “He’s ten now, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Halmir said. “Uncle Daeron’s been teaching him the bow lately, and he’s even more determined now to become a Ranger as soon as he’s old enough.”

~*~

“We think they are coming from the north, probably near Mount Gram.” Halmir leant over the map table to point at the mountain.

Aragorn stood back to make room at the table, using the opportunity for a closer look at Halmir. He was pleased to see the young man’s confident manner with Glorfindel and Elrond’s sons. _Halbarad, you would have been so proud of him, and of Haldan._ He bit his lip to hide the knife-slash of pain that came with the thought. Even after ten years the wound of Halbarad’s loss hurt if he probed it too deeply, or at all, if he was honest with himself.

“How many?” Glorfindel asked.

Aragorn returned his full attention to the discussion. _Halbarad would be the first to take me to task for not paying attention._

“Around three hundred from what the scouts saw,” Halmir replied.

“Three hundred,” Elrohir repeated. “And we did not spot them!”

“They must have crossed the Misty Mountains far to the north, beyond the reach of our patrols,” Glorfindel said. “I will send patrols into the Coldfells to see what we can find out and to make sure there is no sudden attack on Rivendell or the High Pass from there.”

“Halmir, do you have an agreed meeting point for your company?” Aragorn asked.

Halmir nodded. “Near the Last Bridge, and if that fails, they’ll leave markers.”

“Then you should start back tomorrow or the day after,” Aragorn said. “Tell them we’ll be joining them in the hunt. I will also send word to the Angle. The Fornost Company are near the end of their leave, and they can join us the quickest.”

“I can set off tomorrow,” Halmir said.

“And hopefully we can chase down the Orcs before their next attack. These raids are bad, but nothing compared to what a permanent foothold at Mount Gram or elsewhere in Angmar’s territory would bring,” Aragorn said. “Glorfindel, you can add the Hoardale Company to your own patrols. The Grey Company will guard the High Pass and keep an eye on Goblin Town. I will send word to Sador and Borlas.”

“And we two will come along with you and your companies,” Elrohir said to Aragorn.

Elladan nodded in agreement. “I would like more than one extra company along, and more horses, but there is not enough time to gather them if you wish to act now.”

**3013, March 10**

First looking up and down the road to check that they were unobserved, Aragorn nudged his horse to turn left towards the rocky path that ran on into the Angle. After a hundred yards or so he dismounted and went on leading the horse, Elladan and Elrohir following suit.

They had followed the path for about a mile when a Ranger stepped out from the side of the road ahead of them.

“Captain!”

“Daeron, good to see you.” Aragorn nodded at him in greeting.

“This way.” Daeron headed off the path past some low trees. It did not take long for them to reach the place where the others were waiting. 

One of the Rangers got up as soon as he saw them and came over to greet them.

“We’re ready to leave, sir,” he told Aragorn.

“Marach, I am sorry to pull your company from their leave early,” Aragorn replied.

“I’d say it is about time,” Marach said as he gestured at the men to get ready to move. “The farmer folk cannot deal with this, the East Road Company is overstretched, and we’re at hand. Things are quiet enough west of the Weatherhills that we can stay away a bit longer.”

**3013, March 22**

“There is little we can do until the scouts pick up some trace of the Orcs,” Brandir, the captain of the East Road Company, said.

“If there is a trail out there, we will find it,” Elladan said.

Aragorn said nothing. He himself had gone out to look and had found nothing. _Our hope rests on what Elrohir may find_.

“And while we sit here and wait, people may be dying,” Marach said.

“Rushing around blindly will do nothing to help them,” Brandir replied.

“So you’ve said before.” Marach turned away. “Orcs don’t just fade into thin air.”

Aragorn shook his head and spoke to Brandir. “The last attack was a week ago, you say?”

Brandir nodded. “The last one we know of, but they’re all the same. All the people killed, and no looting except for what food they could carry.” His expression was grim as he looked at the others. “By now, Rangers have brought warning to most of the farms and villages out here, but there is little that people can do when forty or fifty Orcs come at them in the night.”

“Have you found any pattern in the attacks?” Elladan asked Brandir.

“Not yet,” the Ranger admitted, looking annoyed. “Every time we thought we did, they turned up somewhere else altogether. It’s rare for Orcs to be _this_ crafty.”

“And that suggests that their purpose is more than just raiding, as does the lack of looting. Their captain doesn’t want them encumbered by plunder and has them well in hand,” Daeron said.

“True,” Brandir replied. “But some of the men are saying they are ghosts to fade away as they do every time. What are they up to?”

“Ghosts don’t—” Daeron’s reply was cut short by the sound of a horse approaching at speed.

“There has been another attack! Twenty miles east from here, last night!” the Ranger who rode in to the clearing blurted out as he dismounted.

“Then we will go and look,” Aragorn replied.

“Are you sure it’s wise to rush in?” Elladan asked as Aragorn headed for his horse.

“This is the first time we have hope of a fresh trail,” Aragorn said. “I won’t walk blindly into a trap.”

“Not blindly, perhaps,” Elladan said. “But be wary, little brother. They are too crafty for comfort.”

**3013, March 23**

The sun had only just risen when Aragorn and those with him dismounted to approach what remained of the farm that had been attacked. With his brother’s warning still in mind, Aragorn was even more careful in approaching the farm than he would have been otherwise, but nothing stirred.

_Not a bird is singing, and the place stinks of death and fire._

Everything above the level of the farm’s stone foundation had been set alight, and smoke still curled up lazily from the wooden beams that had supported the house. The blackened outline of a tree that had been caught in the blaze stood starkly against the pale morning sky. Aragorn looked up as the wind rattled through charred branches.

“The same again,” Daeron said bitterly after he had spoken to the Rangers who had found the farm the previous day and who were now keeping guard. “No one left alive and no looting.”

Elladan and Elrohir went off to look for tracks away from the farm while Aragorn followed Daeron to look at what was left of the building. 

“Follow me!” Elrohir came running back. “Elladan found a survivor.”

Aragorn and the others rushed over to find Elladan some distance back from the house, carefully removing the body of a girl from the doubtful shelter of a tangle of brambles near some trees. She was clearly dead, with her innards exposed through a great wound in her belly, but as Elladan gently placed her on the ground, Aragorn saw that she had been huddled over another, younger child. Elladan soon roused the child, a boy of about five years old, to awareness. The boy was covered in blood and tried to pull away from the Half-elf in fear, but as Elladan spoke to him, he calmed down enough that Elladan could pick him up and carry him to the front of the house. He took fright again when he saw the Rangers, so Elladan turned away slightly while he continued to softly speak to him.

 _Why is he afraid of Rangers when they were attacked by Orcs? All out here know the Rangers protect them, or should protect them,_ Aragorn wondered as he joined the men trying to find the Orcs’ trail.

“Here!” one of the men with Daeron called out. “They’re going north-west, Captain.”

“From what young Gelmir told my brother,” Elrohir said a while later as they prepared to return to the Rangers’ camp, “the farm was attacked the night before last, by Orcs, but they were led by a Man.”

 _Ruffians! That explains the boy’s fear._ “We’ll go after them as soon as we have collected the others.” Aragorn made a wry face. “The hunt is on.”


	2. Chapter 2

**3013, April 6**

“Faster! Stragglers will be left for the tarks! Run, you scum! No rest before sunrise!”

The Orcs sped up at his urging. He was a swifter runner than they, and he drove them hard. They were still far from the mountains, and while the rocky bones of the land showed at times, they mostly ran through last year’s grass and still-bare woodlands – _easy ground for running, for them and for us both. But even if the Rangers come after us on horseback, it won’t matter once we get to rockier terrain_.

This was the second night after the attack, and there was as yet no sign of pursuit – though the trackers complained that the wind blew the wrong way and they could not be sure. One more night, and they would be back in their camp. _And then back north_. _Lay low for a while, and perhaps strike further west, where they won’t expect us._

_Oh, come on,_ he thought, _they_ will _come after us this time, if they aren’t already. Even if this lot didn’t stick to the plan, we hit them hard, and I got their captain good._

_But what did he call me?_

=~*~=

**3013, April 5**

_He stays in the deepest shadows, moves only when the trees rustle in the wind. The sentry is wary, and the least sound will alert him to the danger at his back._

_One more step._

Now!

_Before the sentry knows he is there, he has the man’s mouth clamped shut with one gloved hand and cuts his throat with the other. He holds him close until he stops struggling and then slowly, silently, takes his cloak and lowers him to the ground. He tosses aside the cloak pin with a snarl of frustration when he cannot fasten it quickly and secures the cloak with its ties only. In the moonlight, he catches a glimpse of the man’s face. Even in death, it bears a look of surprised shock._

_He stands still again, listening._

_Nothing._

_He looks up. There is some time left before the moon sets. He quickly moves further into the camp. The men are asleep around their banked fires, unaware that the perimeter of sentries they trust to keep them safe has been breached._

_The scouts have done their work, so he knows where to look for the one he seeks. He takes up his place a short distance away. Another glance at the sky._ Not yet _. He checks his sword._

_A horn blast._

Curse it! Too soon! _Luckily, he is already in position._

_Behind him, mayhem breaks out as the men, many of them barefoot or half-dressed, jump up to defend themselves from the Orcs who rush in among them._ They should have waited until the moon was down. Eager idiots. I’ll have to split some hea…

There he is!

_By the light of the moon he can clearly see the man’s face_. I have seen him before, _he realises_. He was one of those travellers near the Brown lands. Him and that old man the Mouth, and through him the Great Lord himself, were so interested in.

_He moves towards his target, trusting that the cloak he has taken off the sentry will suggest for just long enough that he is one of this captain’s men._

_The other turns, sees him, hesitates._

It’s working. Good. Just a bit closer still…

_“H-Halbarad? Is it you?” the other asks. He looks as stunned as the dead sentry._

=~*~=

**3013, April 7**

Almost dawn, and a growing feeling of urgency. Were their pursuers closing in? The Orcs were starting to slow down, some of them glancing at the lightening sky as they ran.

“Keep going, you maggots! We’ll stop soon enough!” There were a few sullen glares, but they all had the sense to stay silent. He checked his belt knife even so. Fights had broken out over less.

The sun was already over the horizon by the time they reached a rocky outcrop that would provide shadow, and he allowed them to stop for the day. It was not much of a camp, but it would do.

While the Orcs cowered from the morning sun it was his watch, and he thought as he paced. His orders had been to provoke the Rangers and draw them out into the open. It had taken a few raids, but it had worked. This attack had gone well, even if these cursed maggots could not follow orders and wait. They had only lost a few, and even if he had not killed the Ranger captain, he had still badly wounded him. One thing bothered him: his opponent had seemed to know him and had given him a name. He braced himself for the headache that inevitably hit him whenever he tried to think about who he was, or about anything he knew he did not remember about serving the Great Lo… _Sauron. That is how I called him once._ His guts clenched at even _thinking_ the Forbidden Name, and he fought back a wave of nausea. _But Halbarad_ is _my name, and…_

=~*~=

**3013, April 5**

_“I have no name,” he snarls as he draws his sword and attacks._

_The other parries, too slow to fully block him, and he strikes him hard on the left shoulder, but with the flat of the blade._ Curse it! That was clumsy! _The other still drops the knife he had in his left hand, so he steps back, and feints to the right._ Keep him off balance now and be fast!

_The other follows the feint, and he takes the opening, quickly stepping forward to grab the other’s sword arm tightly at the wrist. Forcing the arm up and out of the way as the other struggles to break free, he hits him over the head with the pommel of his sword, then twists around and comes in fast with the point._

_His opponent grunts and doubles over as the blade pierces him, his face in a grimace of pain. A bloodstain is already spreading on his shirt._

_He risks a glance behind him. In the light of the fires that have been set in the camp, he sees Rangers approaching._ Time to go! _He pushes the other away, with a kick in the guts for good measure, and runs before the other Rangers can catch up with him._

=~*~=

**3013, April 7 and 8  
**

_… I was a Ranger once._

_But what use are memories? I know better than to dwell on the past. Even if I was one of them once, none of it will get us to Mount Gram any faster._ He shook his head to clear it and stopped pacing to look up at the sky. With all his thinking, it was already well past noon. _Time to wake the next sentry_. Khûlthaz growled in complaint as he nudged him awake, but quickly went up to the lookout position. _And now for some sleep._

He lay down, but sleep eluded him yet. He could feel a headache coming on. He could not stop his thoughts from running on and on, but he could try to steer them away from names and origins. _Looks like we’re getting to the camp before those Rangers can catch up. Two or three more nights to the Ettenmoors after that, faster if we go on through the day – this lot_ will _run in daylight, I’ll make sure of it, and once we’re that far_ … He yawned.

When he woke up the sun was already lowering towards the horizon, and the Orcs were starting to stir. The scouts had seen no signs of pursuit yet.

“Come on, wake up! I want to be in the camp by midnight! No stopping till we get there! Slackers get to deal with the tarks,” he called out. “Move it, you rats!”

“Get moving, you stinking rats!” Ufthag, his second, added his voice, aiming a kick at Khûlthaz, who kept glancing over his shoulders to where they had come from. “The accursed tarks will catch up soon enough. No need to keep looking for ’em!”

Once they were on their way, all there was to do was to keep going. As he ran, it struck him as funny that Ufthag might call him an _accursed tark_ as well, if he had the nerve and the knowledge. And perhaps he would one day, and there would be a reckoning. _I would hate having to train a new second_ _again. And not far now to the camp. I can do with some more sleep._

In the camp, he had to attend first to setting sentries – no sneaking up on _them_ – and he sent out scouts again. _Finally, a chance to rest,_ he thought once he was done and could lie down. _More scouts in the morning. Pursuit can’t be that far behind._ After three nights of running and little sleep during the day, he was tired enough that he fell asleep quickly, even if he _did_ have a headache and his leg hurt.

The next morning, the scouts came back to report that the Rangers had set up their camp for the night about seven miles away.

“How many?” he asked.

“Forty,” one of the scouts replied.

_More than a full company,_ he thought. _And it leaves us outnumbered._ He looked around. _I’ll give them today to rest, unless the Rangers move sooner than I expect. Tonight, we go, and we won’t stop until we get to the main camp. Let’s draw out those forty to Mount Gram so they can meet the rest of the lads._

“You, you, and you!” he called up the three nearest Orcs. “Go and keep an eye on that camp. If they send out scouts or messengers, or get reinforcements or break camp, I want to know immediately. Go!”

Once the three were on their way, grumbling over having to go scout in daylight – “Move it, you useless maggots!” – he walked up to a lookout perch at the edge of the camp and considered the terrain critically. _Not a good place to defend. We’ll have to be gone before the Rangers come too near._ He smiled. _Let them come, let’s have our game of cat and mouse. It’ll surprise them the more when_ they _become the hunted._

By now the Orcs who were not on sentry duty or out scouting had taken to what shady hiding places they had for the day. His headache had gotten worse overnight, and he did not think he would be able to sleep, so he settled down among the shelter of the rocks to keep watch and make his plans for the next few days. Yet he could not let go of what he had remembered after the raid on the Ranger camp.

_If I was once a Ranger – how did I come to be here, with their enemies?_ He wished he knew, but he had not the smallest of hints _._ During the fight, his opponent _had_ known him, even if the one-sided recognition had brought the other man no advantage, giving him the edge instead. How had the other recognised him, and who was _he_? As far as he knew he had only seen him once before, that time with the wandering greybeard, yet it was easy to bring up his face from memory. As he held the stranger in his mind’s eye, his headache flared up and he could no longer ignore it. He cast himself on the ground and clutched his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut to close out the light.

Despite his aching head he held on to the image in his mind, and pressed for _more_. _I must know!_ He felt as if he was pushing his head through a brick wall, but he _had_ seen him before!

_The flickering light of a campfire casting deep shadows on his face_ – _his star gleaming in the sunlight and eyes smiling, their glances meet_ – _a hand on his shoulder in shared grief as they lay a comrade to rest_ – _standing back to back, fighting off a horde of Orcs_ – _steady hands stitching a wound on his arm_ – _his own hands, cutting an arrow from the other’s shoulder_ – _a smoky room, laughter, a pint of beer_ – _a cloaked figure lowering his hood, joy welling up in his heart as he recognises him…_

_Face drawn in pain as_ his _sword pierces him._

_I know him._

The wall in his mind crumbled – even as he sensed there was yet more there that should remain forgotten – and the headache went with it, the abrupt absence of pain leaving him lightheaded, almost dizzy.

_Aragorn! What have I done?_

He stared at his hands, trembling.

_I forgot my own name, I forgot_ who _I was,_ what _I was. Sauron the Deceiver_ – _not the Great Lord, I’ll not name him that again – has always been our enemy, and I… I… served him. How..._ He felt sick as a wave of revulsion coursed through him.

_What am I going to do? I will not do the Enemy’s work again and I cannot hide all that I remember. But the Enemy_ _must not learn that Isildur’s heir lives…_ if _he lives._

The full horror of what he had done hit him, and he retched until his stomach was empty.

After a while, he regained control of his stomach and of his thoughts. _Until I can work out what to do, I can only play my role, and hope I can do so convincingly._

He took a deep breath, and a large swallow of water to rinse his mouth. Warily, he stood up to check on the Orcs in the camp. They were all still asleep.

Eventually, with the approach of dusk, the first few Orcs started to stir. He made his way down to the camp. _I must raise no suspicions._

“Call back the scouts watching the other camp and set a second ring of sentries for the night,” he told Ufthag. Luckily, he had not yet spoken of his plan to leave for Mount Gram this night. Now he could delay without anyone becoming suspicious. _Although… Ufthag is canny, too canny._ That afternoon any of them could have sneaked up on him and sunk a knife in his back for a field promotion. That no one had done so merely meant that their fear of him was – _for now_ – greater than their ambition, but at the first slip-up... _I won’t have much time to make up my mind._

Though he could barely hold down a bite, he ate with the Orcs, even joining in their regular ill-tempered banter to suggest all was normal, before he went off to rest.

_I cannot keep this up for long_. He could hide his distress under threats and violence, but too much of that would eventually raise them against him rather than cow them. _Then what? All I’ve done… I’m as monstrous as any Orc, but if I stay with them, I might as well fall on my sword now. Or… I was a Ranger once. Give myself up to them? Where else could I go now?_ He looked long at the sword lying next to him. It was the quicker ending and the easier way out. _No,_ he decided. _I will answer for what I have done, though I hang for it. And even that is a better death than I deserve._

**3013, April 9**

Leaving the Orc camp was easy. He stood up and walked off into the bushes as if going to relieve himself and just kept walking. It was still before dawn and it might be some time yet until he was missed. The Orcs knew better than to disturb their captain unnecessarily and his pack was where it should be.

He only had the clothes he wore with him, and had left behind even his water skin and his belt knife – and the cloak he wore the one he had on when he had made the attempt on Aragorn’s life. _I am a murderer many times over, but please let me have failed there._

With him wearing a Ranger cloak rather than an Orcish one, now that it was getting light, maybe the sentries would not shoot him on sight and he might succeed in turning himself in. _The disguise worked before, and perhaps my luck will hold, if luck one can call it._ With a shrug, he lowered his hood. Likely enough he was walking towards a quick death from an arrow to his throat, but what would happen, would happen.

If the scouts had been right, he knew where the Rangers hunting them were camped, which meant the sentries would be posted just… about… here…

He stood still and raised his hands over his head.

“I surrender myself,” he called out in Sindarin.

Nothing. Every instinct cried out to move, to run, but he managed to stand still, to wait. The sentries would hardly dash out of hiding to capture him, but would be frantically gesturing to each other deciding what to do and. _Now_ he could hear movement to his right. _Stand still. Do not turn even your head,_ he told himself.

“Lower your hands and put them behind your back,” a voice spoke behind him, as about thirty feet in front of him a Ranger with a drawn bow trained on him emerged from cover.

In his haste the Ranger standing behind him to bind his hands was awkward while tying the ropes, and the aim of the lad with the bow wavered constantly. _Had I changed my mind, I could easily have gotten away,_ he thought. _I still could. But it’s done now, I made my choice, and I will do no further harm to my own people._

The man behind him pushed him towards the edge of the path. “Sit down.”

As he obeyed, the two conferred softly, casting constant glances in his direction. After a short time, the one who had bound him returned to watching the path, while the younger man with the bow stood some small distance away – bow half-drawn and arrow ready in hand – still nervous, but at least his hands were steady now. He was surprised they did not alert the camp, but when he saw other Rangers approaching, he realised that the two had been so close to the end of their shift that signalling would not have been quicker than waiting.

The four spoke together, and as Halbarad watched them he realised he knew one of the newcomers. He could not remember his name, but they had patrolled together near… near… _the Weather Hills? Bree? Oh, curse it, I can’t remember._ The man’s eyes on him showed wary disgust, contempt. He looked away. He had more than earned it, but that made it no easier to bear.

The first sentries must have been rushing to get back to the camp, as more newcomers arrived after only a short wait, two more Rangers and… an Elf? – _no, Half-elf,_ his memory supplied. _But which one? We were friends once, and I knew them both at a glance, and now…_ He recoiled as he accidentally met the other’s gaze. _He hates me now, and so he should._

“Stand up,” the Half-elf ordered sharply, and he scrambled to his feet. At a nod from the Half-elf one of the others stepped up behind him and put a blindfold on him.

“The Orc camp, they…” he started to warn them.

“We’ll deal with your Orcs,” the Half-elf said. “Silent now, traitor, or I’ll gag you.”

_I_ have _to know. I’ll take the gag._ “Aragorn, is he… did I…”

The punch to his stomach drove him to his knees, but the Half-elf immediately dragged him back to his feet with a grip on his arm that felt strong enough to break it.

“I _said_ silence.”

He resisted out of reflex when, true to the Half-elf‘s words, a wadded-up rag was stuffed in his mouth, and the grip on his arm tightened even more.

“Now take this Orc-filth back to the camp,” the Half-elf said to the two Rangers as the iron grip on his arm was suddenly released, “and if he tries to escape, slay him.” He then leant in so close that Halbarad could feel his breath on his face and said in a low voice, “Halbarad. You even _stink_ like an Orc.”


	3. Chapter 3

**3013, April 10**

Elrohir had just finished putting a clean dressing on Aragorn’s wound when young Halmir stuck his head inside the healer’s tent. Aragorn was starting to nod off already, but he looked up at the unexpected visitor. Halmir gave him a worried look, but addressed Elrohir.

“There’s a messenger for you, sir. From your brother.”

“Will you watch the Chieftain for a bit, then? Call me immediately if his wound reopens.” Elrohir stood up and headed out.

Outside another Ranger stood waiting. “I bring word from your brother and the captains, sir. The Rangers marched on the Orc camp yesterday afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Elrohir replied. _Though it hardly warrants a messenger until the matter is decided_.

“There is more. Sir, we have him. It _is_ Halbarad!”

“How, if they only advanced in the afternoon?” Elrohir glanced back towards the tent. Aragorn and Halmir both would take the confirmation hard. _Curse you, Halbarad!_

“He walked into our camp and gave himself up yesterday morning,” the messenger said.

“He did what?” Elrohir held up his hand to stop the messenger repeating his words. “Is there anything else?”

“No, sir.”

“Then go and rest for now. I will likely have a reply for you to take back later.”

Elrohir went back inside as the Ranger walked off.

“Sir, Elrohir?” Halmir stood up as soon as he came in. “I couldn’t help overhearing… It _is_ my father then?”

“Yes, lad,” Elrohir replied, quickly laying a hand on the young Ranger’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He watched Halmir closely to see how he would take the news.

Halmir looked down and drew a shuddering breath, exhaling slowly as he looked up again. For all that in looks he resembled his mother more than his father, when Halmir next looked at him there was a lot of a man Elrohir had believed dead for ten years in his flinty gaze. “Thank you for telling me. I…Thank you.” He turned abruptly and went outside again.

Elrohir shook his head as he sat down beside Aragorn.

“Poor lad,” Aragorn said softly, his voice still weak. “I kept hoping I’d been wrong, that it wasn’t…” He lay with his eyes closed and did not speak for some time. Elrohir was starting to think he had drifted off to sleep again when he said, “Take him to Caras Dirnen for trial.”

“Are you sure?” Elrohir asked, as soon as he realised that Aragorn was no longer talking about Halmir. _I_ am _tired after barely sleeping for days to keep Estel among the living._ “I don’t like staying out here with you so sorely wounded for longer than we have to, but we may as well try him here.”

Aragorn shook his head determinedly. “I am sure.” He paused, and Elrohir helped him to drink a few sips of water before he went on. “Before we leave, he must be questioned, only about the Orcs at Mount Gram for now. The captains can decide on pushing on with the attack. And… send word to Elrond, and Gandalf if he’s still in Rivendell. Tell them…” He spoke even softer now. “Elrohir, Halbarad was there when Gandalf told me why he needed to find Gollum. This… may become a matter for the White Council.”

“That must needs wait until Elladan returns,” Elrohir replied. “I would not entrust such a message to anyone else.” He would have gone himself, but Aragorn would need a healer’s care for some time, especially if he was moved to Caras Dirnen in a horse litter. “Now rest. I will see that your wishes are carried out.”

Elrohir waited for an answer, but Aragorn was already asleep again. _Still too pale. His head wound did no more than daze him, but the other… He lost so much blood. At least the wound was to his liver only, and there is no poison or other damage._

**3013, April 11**

_Two days._ Halbarad tried to find a slightly more comfortable sitting position and considered asking his guard for a drink of water. The gag had been removed the previous day, and his hands were now bound in front of him, though he was still kept blindfolded. His arm and his midriff no longer hurt as much as they had at first. _Two days since I gave myself up, and over a day since the Rangers left for the Orc camp. It’ll be another day before they’re back if they are victorious_. As he shifted his weight, trying to find a less uncomfortable spot among the roots of the tree he was leaning against, he heard the Ranger guarding him shift position as well. _And if they’re not, I can only hope one of the Rangers will give me the mercy stroke before they withdraw. If the Orcs retake me now.._. _Blinding and gelding would be just the start. And but a few days ago I would have inflicted such torture on others. And I_ have _done so_.

=~*~=

_The torturer holds the captive’s hand flat on the table and straps it down. He asks something of the bound man, but there is no reply. The torturer takes a chopping knife, and holds it over the man’s fingers, poised to sever them. The captive moans and struggles. At a gesture from the Mouth, the torturer pauses and slightly raises up the blade._

_He watches._

_The Mouth turns to him. “This time, are you ready?”_

_When he was brought here before, he could not do what was asked of him. He hesitates, but still steps forward._ Am I ready? I should be. The man is a rebel. He _must_ be made to talk. _He walks to the table and takes the knife. He brings it into position over the captive’s fingers. His grip on the hilt is firm as the torturer speaks to the captive again. He cannot understand what is said, but thinks the language is some Khandian dialect._

_Again, the captive does not answer. The torturer turns to him and gestures that he should bring down the knife. He tries – it should only take a small effort – but he_ can not _and with an impatient gesture, the torturer takes back the knife and pushes him to the side, before hacking off the captive’s fingers with a sharp movement. The man screams and passes out._

_Later, he drags the corpse outside to be disposed of. Except for more screams and moans of pain, the man had kept his silence to the end, and the Mouth is in a foul mood. That evening, as after his previous failures, he is beaten. In time, a healer comes to rub a stinging ointment into his wounds, and the Mouth himself comes along and watches._

_He meets the Mouth’s gaze and feels a_ push _at something within him. He cannot help, he dares not hinder._

_“Next time,” the Mouth says. He feels a chill at the threat in those words, and there is that_ push _again. After, his head hurts worse than the bruises and cuts from the beating._

=~*~=

**3013, April 11-12**

He suppressed a shudder at his memories. _Whatever befalls me now I have more than earned. Even if they take their time, better if the Orcs kill me here than that they return me across the Mountains. But when did I start shying at shadows and chances? The Rangers have a company and a half in the field and that’s enough._ He shifted again to lean back against the tree to which he was tied. _I should try to sleep._

He had drifted off into a light doze when the sound of riders entering the camp woke him again. _Messengers? And from the south, so from the main camp. What news do they bring? Aragorn’s death?_ He was too far away to overhear what was said, but the message seemed to cause no great shock in those who heard. Of course, he still did not know whether Aragorn had survived his attack. _They won’t tell me. But had I failed, they wouldn’t hesitate to let me know it. Though were Aragorn dead, the mood in the camp would be otherwise. Their attention is on the Orcs, true, but even so…_

Footsteps approached – two men – and slowed down a short distance away. The two stood there for a long time, and he could _feel_ their gaze on him. At last, one spoke.

“Do you want to speak with him, Halmir?”

“No.” A long pause. “To what purpose? It won’t bring my uncle back. I have seen him. It’s enough.”

They walked away.

_Halmir? My son’s a Ranger? I wish I could have seen him… Cursed blindfold! But no, better yet I should have stayed away – that he should see me thus! And rightly he wants nothing to do with me._ _But, he called Aragorn uncle when he, as a child…_ He squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that welled up, but he saw another face than Aragorn’s before him – that of a sentry half-glimpsed in the moonlight, and now recognised. _Daeron! No! Was he surprised just by the attack, or did he recognise me as I killed him?_ He could still feel the other’s struggle to break free, weakening as his blood spilled from the slash in his throat. _Blood. The blood on my cloak…_ Sickened, he grabbed at the cloak’s ties to loosen them, but he could not manage with his bound hands.

The movement alerted his guard. “Sit still!”

“The cloak! It’s choking me. Blood! I must take it off!” He continued to fumble at the cloak.

“Stop that!”

“No! Get it off me! Blood!” Even in what part of him recognised as blind panic, he registered others running up. _The ties, can’t get them loose!_ “The blood!”

“Stop it!” – voices shouting at him as he continued to pull at the ties in vain.

“What is it?” someone said.

“I don’t know,” his guard replied, sounding bemused. “He started pulling at his cloak and going on about blood.”

“The thing is rank with it, but I don’t see why it should bother him. It’s no fouler than the rest of him. Careful now, all of you.”

He was dragged to his feet, and his arms held by two men. Someone stepped up behind him and pulled back his head by the hair. He felt the cold edge of a knife blade under his jaw. “One move…”

He felt another knife in the hollow of his throat and started to draw back. The first knife pressed closer, and he froze. _They fear me. Even as I am now, bound and blindfolded, they are afraid. But these are likely all inexperienced men, the youngest Rangers left to hold the camp. Who knows what their imagination has made me into?_

A quick movement from the second knife cut the cloak’s knotted ties, and it slid off him to the ground.

“Take the filthy thing and burn it,” the one who had told him to stand still said. “And no more trouble from you, traitor!”

As he was released, someone gave him a shove, so he fell more than that he sat down. He landed hard on one elbow and barely noticed the Rangers leaving as he leant back against his tree. _Daeron… He too was a friend, and Dineth’s brother. Dineth, Halmir, I’m so sorry!_ He tried to remember his wife’s face, but nothing except tears would come, and for a long time he could only sit and weep.

Eventually night fell, and he heard the men returning from the north. From their cheerful calls to the Rangers in the camp it was clear they had defeated the Orcs, and without any losses.

The night was clear, and cold enough that he almost regretted the absence of the cloak as he shivered trying to get to sleep. _No, I may stink like an Orc, though –_ he sniffed carefully – _I don’t smell it myself, but I won’t wallow in the blood of those I have slain. Not anymore. Daeron, you deserved better of me!_ He huddled in on himself trying to find some warmth, but he managed only fitful naps in between bouts of shivering.

When his guard woke him the next morning he felt as if he had slept no more than five minutes.

“Come along.”

He followed the guard to the latrines, but as he was led back, he knew he was not being returned to where he had been held. _We’re going further into the camp._ He stumbled. _And with the officers back from dealing with the Orc camp, they could try me right now_. Perhaps that had been the message from the other camp. _My case is simple enough, as will be its ending: a noose and a quick drop or maybe not so quick_ … He struggled to draw breath past the tightness in his throat at the thought of slowly, helplessly strangling. _I’m no coward, and yet.._. _Hanging’s a shameful death, but I’m more ashamed of fearing it._

The guard halted. “Here he is, captain.”

“Thank you, Urthel,” someone replied. “Remove his blindfold and unbind his hands.”

As his hands were freed and his eyes uncovered for the first time in days, he blinked against the brightness of the light, though the sun had only just risen. Still trying to hold his fear in check, he took in his surroundings. Apart from his guard, there were four men there, the Half-elf and three Rangers. Halbarad knew all three of them. Marach had been the Bree Company’s second, Brandir Captain of the East Road Company, and Hador had only just received his star when… _Before…before I…_

And further away, others were going about the normal business of a Ranger camp, though he noticed curious glances being cast in his direction. _Go ahead, gawk at the traitor._ One Ranger stood watching longer, then, after meeting his gaze, turned and walked away. _Halmir_.

“Yes, that is your son,” a soft voice beside him said.

Halbarad had not noticed the Half-elf was standing next to him. Startled, he met the other’s gaze before looking away again. His bones creaked when he turned his head, and he wondered if he would still hear it if the drop on the rope snapped his neck, or if he would be dead too fast for that. _If I’m lucky and the fall_ does _break my neck of course._ He shivered.

“Oh, we’re not here to hang you. Not yet,” the other said, still in a low tone of voice.

_Have I become that easy to read?_ Halbarad thought. _No matter if he thinks me a coward, he_ already _despised me._

The Half-elf shoved him towards the others. “You will tell us everything about your Orcs and their lair at Mount Gram,” the Half-elf now spoke louder. “And I _will_ know when you’re lying or holding anything back.”

The questions started immediately.

“How many were there in the attack on our camp?” Marach asked.

“Thirty-nine,” Halbarad replied. “I set out with fifty.”

The Half-elf grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm up behind his back. “Again, how many?”

“Thirty-nine and fifty.”

“What about the ones you lost?” That was Brandir.

“One I sent as a messenger to the camp at Mount Gram before the attack.”

“What was his message?”

“To prepare for defence in case we were followed there.”

“Where did you cross the Misty Mountains?”

“Up near Gundabad.”

“What defences are there at--”

“We’ll get to that later,” the Half-elf interrupted. “What happened to the others?”

“One died in a knife-fight. I slew the winner.”

“Good at keeping your troops in line, are you?” The Half-elf twisted his arm up further. “The others? Oh, and we got your messenger well before he got to Mount Gram.”

“They died in the raids on the f-auggh…”

“Hurts, does it?” the Half-elf asked, though he did ease his grip on Halbarad’s arm slightly. “Keep answering and I won’t break it.” Halbarad gasped for breath as he gave another small twist to emphasise his point.

_Do you not see then that I would tell you without pressure?_ Halbarad did not say it. Painful as this was, had he been unwilling to talk, it would not have been nearly enough to make him do so.

“He’s disgusting,” Hador said. “Not just a traitor, but a craven. As if turning traitor once isn’t enough, he’s as eager to betray his current friends at the slightest hurt.” He spat on the ground at Halbarad’s feet.

_Traitor, yes, but craven I am not!_ Halbarad tensed and raised his head in anger, but a twist of his arm stopped him.

“That’s enough from you,” the Half-elf said in his ear. “Now tell us more about the terrain around Mount Gram.”

“What is the point of this?” Marach asked before Halbarad could answer. “I don’t trust a word he says.”

“I agree,” Brandir said, then turned to Halbarad. “Just remember, traitor, for all your lies, and for all that you are not telling us, that your son will be among the Rangers at Mount Gram.”

The Half-elf snorted in disgust. “Given this Orc-filth’s actions of late, I doubt that matters to him.”

“I _did_ speak the truth,” Halbarad protested, horrified by what Brandir seemed to suggest. “Please don’t punish him for _my_ deeds!”

“Punishment?” Marach said. “Hardly. He volunteered as soon as he knew you were involved.”

_Oh, my son!_

“Now, shall we continue?” the Half-elf said. “I want to be on the road before noon.”

They asked him about the lay of the land, about numbers, about the defences at Mount Gram, until the Half-elf asked what reinforcements he had beyond the current three hundred.

“None,” he said.

Immediately, his arm was twisted up so high that the strain on his shoulder became close to unbearable. He could not hold back another groan of pain.

“Again!” the Half-elf snapped, “What reinforcements do you have?”

“None,” he whispered, panting.

“I don’t believe you.” The Half-elf struck a sharp blow at his upper arm.

_Crack!_

His sight turned black at the pain.

When he came to, he was on his knees, clutching at his arm, trying not to retch.

“Again! What reinforcements?”

A hand grabbed his arm. Halbarad gritted his teeth, trying not to black out again. _Pain, think of anything else than pain._

“He’s lying! He has to be!”

“Elladan, ease up!” someone – Marach? – said. “You won’t get any answers like this.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Elladan replied and as the hand on his arm tightened, Halbarad felt a pressure on his mind.

=~*~=

Pain. _His body, his mind._ All _is pain._

_“What is your name?”_

_He tries not to answer, but after some time the pressure in his head is so great that he_ has _to._

_“I…I don’t remember. I don’t know.”_

_“Again, what is your name?”_

_I don’t know. – He is unsure whether he has even been able to reply aloud, but the other is in his mind anyway. He senses a terrible anger and tries to brace himself against what comes next._

_Blackness. Relief._

_For a while._

=~*~=

“Urthel, go find the healer,” someone said.

The voices went on, still arguing he guessed from the tone, but they seemed to come from further and further away.

Someone was cutting open the sleeve of his shirt and poking at his arm, and he tried to pull away.

“Easy, I’m trying to help you,” a new voice said. “Your arm is broken, and I’m going to splint it. It’ll hurt, so prepa…”

He stopped listening to what the man was saying, just letting the words flow over him. _I_ _could have told him that it’s broken, but he does sound as if he knows what he is doing. And it hurts already, so…_

When he came to again, he was sitting on the ground leaning against something. He had been blindfolded once more, but his hands were unbound, though his left arm seemed to be restrained in some way – _Oh, it’s in a sling... and it hurts, but not as much as it should._ People were arguing somewhere nearby, and they seemed to be talking about _him_.

“You should wait until tomorrow. He can barely sit up straight from the poppy juice I’ve given him.”

_Poppy juice – oh, that’s why it doesn’t hurt so much. But he shouldn’t have wasted it on_ me…

“We can tie him to the saddle so he doesn’t fall if he faints.”

“Tie him to the saddle! Traitor or not, if you are set on riding today, one of you should ride double with him.”

“Have you no sense of smell, Rannir? Even if the horses are willing to come near him, I’m getting no closer than I have to.”

_The Half-elf. Elladan. He tried to…to…enter my thoughts, and I, I remembered_ something _when he did. Someone did that to me before._ Darkness swirled around him again and he tried to push the thought away. Anything else was better to think about. _Do I really stink that badly?_ He started to shrug, then bit back a curse as a shard of pain tore through the daze the poppy had put him in.

People were still talking somewhere nearby, but no one had asked him anything for some time, so whatever they were talking about... _If anyone wants to ask me something, I’ll be right here._

He yawned. _I’m sleepy – must be the poppy._

**3013, April 13**

Elrohir was already at the edge of the camp waiting for his brother and the other travellers to arrive when the sentry gave the signal that there were friends approaching.

_Elladan, Marach, Brandir._ The fourth rider sat slumped in the saddle. His face was obscured by a blindfold, his hair looked matted and filthy even from a distance, and his clothes clearly came from Orcs. His left arm was in a sling and Marach had his horse on a lead rein. _Halbarad. For all the grief you caused, why? What drove you to betrayal?_ Elrohir resolutely turned his gaze back towards the others.

Elladan dismounted close by Elrohir, immediately closed the few steps between them and pulled him into a tight embrace. _Brother._

Elrohir returned the embrace before gently disengaging himself. Elladan took half a step back to look at him.

“How is Estel?” he asked.

“Well enough, given his wound, but he’s still weak.” _I no longer fear for his life._

“Have you dissuaded him yet from trying the traitor in Caras Dirnen?”

_No, nor will I ask again._

_What?_ Elladan gave him an incredulous look. “Why not?”

_He may have betrayed a lot more than you think._ Elrohir sighed. _He knows why Gandalf is looking for Gollum._ Even speaking in thought, even to Elladan, he found he could not say it explicitly.

Elladan drew in a sharp breath. _I should have broken_ both _his arms – and his filthy neck! Now what do we do?_

You _broke his arm?_

_In questioning. He wasn’t answering as he should, and I…_

_Show me_.

As his brother reluctantly agreed, Elrohir looked. _Elladan!_ _You sought to enter his mind unwilling?_

“If he acts like an Orc, and stinks like one, I’ll treat him like one,” Elladan replied with a defiant look. _Don’t tell me the sight of him doesn’t sicken you too._

“We will speak on this later,”Elrohir replied, his tone grim. _Even were he an Orc, to force entry into another’s thought is itself an evil act. No matter what he did, this cannot pass unexamined._ “As for the trial, it would take more time than I’m willing to stay out here with Estel wounded. Estel is also right that further questioning of the traitor is needed. I will go back to Caras Dirnen with Estel.” _He asked for messages to be sent to Imladris, one for Mithrandir if he’s still there and one for Father. Will you go?_

~*~

Some small time later, Elrohir sat beside Aragorn on the edge of his pallet, with Elladan, Marach and Brandir sitting on the ground opposite them. Aragorn had just agreed with the two captains’ assessment that the attack on Mount Gram should go ahead.

“There is one change I wish to make,” he added. “Marach, can Elatan lead the half of your company that will be going to Mount Gram, with Brandir in command of the attack?”

Marach nodded. “He knows Brandir well, enough that they’ll work together with no problem. As it is, I’m not entirely certain the men are ready for it, but we’ll have to chance that they aren’t _too_ eager for revenge.” He glanced at the other captain, who gave no reaction, then returned his attention to Aragorn. “So, what are you about to ask that takes me away from the campaign?”

“Two things,” Aragorn replied. “First, that you take the traitor to Caras Dirnen, and second, that you will sit in judgement on him.”

“You’re not taking him before the Council then, but trying him as a Ranger?” Marach asked, adding when Aragorn nodded, “Who else?”

“Borlas, if he is willing.”

“Isn’t he at the High Pass?” Marach asked.

“Elladan is going to Rivendell with an urgent message,” Aragorn said. “He can also take a message for the High Pass.”

“Well, then,” Marach said, “I will sit in judgement, for Daeron’s sake and for the farmer folk who were slain.”


	4. Chapter 4

**3013, April 21**

Heart racing, his breath coming in sharp gasps, Halbarad stared up at the deep shadows on the ceiling over him. _Yet_ another _dream. And yet_ again _I don’t remember_ what _it was._ He glanced at the Ranger on guard outside his cell. _At least I didn’t wake up screaming._ The man seemed half-asleep, but Halbarad knew that if he had made any unexpected sound, the other would have been watching him.

_Not that I do better when I’m awake. I still cannot recall so much… I know scarcely anything of my life here or of what I did as a Ranger. And naught of why or when I turned traitor._ He licked his lips, the tension from whatever he had dreamt not yet dissolved. _And there are things I_ dare _not remember, even here._ He had come close to them when he _made_ himself remember Aragorn in the Orc camp, but… no. _Not now, perhaps not ever. My deeds in the service of the Enemy, though… I_ know _I don’t remember all I’ve done, but I am more monstrous than even Orcs are. They are as near to beasts as any thinking creature can be, but they are so by their nature and I_ chose _to become as they are._

He shook his head as he stood up to get the food his guard had put down by the door. He would have quickly lost any sense of time had he not known from _before_ that prisoners were fed twice daily. The only light in the cell and the guardroom in front of it came from the lantern at the guard’s post outside his door, and the shadows it threw were deep.

He had tried pacing, but the _cling_ of his chains each time he moved was too jarring, so he mostly lay or sat on his pallet, waiting. He no longer felt as stiff and sore from riding for days after not having been on horseback for who knew how long as he had at first. The cell was cold, the shackles on his wrists made it difficult to comfortably rest his left arm in its sling, and the arm itself still hurt. The guards had taken his boots, and his feet were constantly cold. _But my discomforts matter little. It’ll be over soon enough._

As soon as Aragorn arrived in Caras Dirnen, his trial would start, and Halbarad doubted it would take long – he wondered again that he was to be tried here and not in the Ranger camp. For a start, it would have saved Aragorn this hasty journey. The only reason he could think of was that he would not be tried as a Ranger, but before the Council. But no, Aragorn would not have him brought here by a senior captain like Marach in that case – certainly not in the middle of a campaign. He shook his head. Whatever the reason was, he would find out soon.

He snorted softly as he thought that in the Ranger camp, Hador had been right to call him a double traitor: he _had_ betrayed the Orcs he had led. Not that any of them would have hesitated to do _him_ harm had they had the chance, but he hadbeen their captain, and that created an obligation of duty, no matter how one-sided. _A right Orc trick I pulled on them in the end, and duty be damned. Not that I could have done otherwise, but I should be honest about it, even if only to myself._

He finished his stew and got up to place bowl and spoon by the door again. As he did so, the door of the guardroom opened, and he stopped in place. _Is it time?_

Then he saw that one of the people who had entered was a woman, and the other a young lad. The woman carried a lantern and as she slowly came nearer, her steps hesitant, he saw her face.

_Dineth. And…_

_Halmir._

_No, of course not. Halmir’s a Ranger, he was in the camp, and he’s a man grown. Then…_ He drew a sharp breath as he tried to take in everything about the boy. _I should_ _have remembered. I should_ _have_ known.

=~*~=

_As he hoists his pack up on his back, he turns to wave. Dineth has one hand raised to wave back, and the other she holds over her belly in that same protective, almost secretive way that he recalls from Haleth and Halmir – when she was not entirely sure herself yet and did not want to add a burden of anxiety when he left on patrol. He smiles inwardly. She would worry about him worrying if she knew that she had given her secret away._

=~*~=

Dineth stopped in the middle of the guardroom and looked him over from the top of his head down to his feet.

_You stink like an Orc,_ Elladan had said, and Halbarad was willing to allow that he was less than perfectly clean. _But that’s hardly why she stays back_. _When I betrayed the Dúnedain, I betrayed her as well._

Her expression as she studied him revealed nothing. _And that is telling enough. She… and the lad… my son!_ Halbarad hated himself for putting them through this. _Perhaps I should not have come back. Perhaps I_ should _have made an end of it out in the wild. Better that they’d never known I betrayed them._

When she was done scrutinising him, Dineth looked him in the eye again. It was all he could do not to squirm. Before either of them spoke, the boy stepped forward.

“Why did you kill Uncle Daeron?” he demanded.

Halbarad flinched, but could not look away from his son‘sgaze beyond a quick glance at Dineth.

“I…” He drew a deep breath. _I must answer._ “I didn’t know it was him.” _And yet,_ he added in thought, _I wouldn’t have spared Daeron as I was then, even had I known him. But_ that _I cannot tell a child: already, I’ve caused him too much grief._

“Then why did you come back?” the boy exclaimed. “You should have stayed away! You should have stayed dead!” He ran out of the room.

Dineth half-turned as if to go after him, but stopped and turned back to Halbarad.

“He is right, you know.” She sighed. “I had a whole speech prepared about your betrayal, but now that I’m here, I find that I can no longer muster anger enough to deliver it. I don’t even want to know why you came back. I only have one question: whatever you gained from what you did, was it worth it?”

“No,” Halbarad said softly. _I don’t know_ what _I gained, but that I do know._ “Dineth, I truly regret Daeron’s death,” he added, then as she snorted in contempt and turned again to leave, “Wait! Before…before you go, what did you name the lad?”

She continued on towards the door, and for a moment he thought she would not answer, but then she paused in the doorway. “Haldan.”

“Thank you,” Halbarad said, but the door had already fallen closed again.

Halbarad half-stumbled back to his pallet and sat down. He leant his head on his knees, stifling a sob.

“Haldan,” he whispered. _After my father..._

**3013, April 24**

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Elrohir had asked as he and Aragorn came down the stairs to the meeting room.

Aragorn had said ‘yes’ then, but he was now glad that the others were all late to join them, and he could have some moments to rest without revealing how weak he still was.

Since arriving in Caras Dirnen two days before, he had mostly slept, and today had been the first time that he had not felt as if he would go right back to sleep if he closed his eyes. The healing wound had stood up well to travelling, and his head no longer hurt, but the journey had still taken its toll on him. Undoubtedly, today would do so too, as would the trial.

_I already know Elrohir disagrees with revealing the reason for the hunt for Gollum, and I doubt Elrond thinks otherwise, but Marach and Borlas are among my most trusted men._ Aragorn sighed and rested his head in his hands. _Trust! I once trusted Halbarad. No, the harm from this has already been done. I can only tell them and hope for the best. At least the Council hasn’t tried to get involved yet._

Aragorn looked up as Elrohir opened the door to let Elrond in. As he stood up to greet his foster father, Elrond came over and after a quick embrace looked him over.

“Estel, you look well, considering…” His voice trailed off into silence.

“I have Elrohir to thank for that,” Aragorn said just as Elrohir opened the door again, now to let in Marach and Borlas.

“Captain,” Marach greeted him.

“Captain,” Borlas said also. “I agreed to come, but I am really curious why you pulled both Marach and me out of the field for this, when any two captains would have done for such a clear-cut case.”

“That is why I have called you here this morning,” Aragorn said. “Please, sit down, both of you. Now, before I start, none of what I will say can go outside this room. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Marach said immediately.

Borlas glanced at Elrohir and Elrond before he answered. “Of course, Captain.”

“Very well,” Aragorn said. “Late in 3001 I was on patrol in the Weatherhills with Halbarad when we ran into Gandalf, who had been looking for me. He needed to speak to me urgently and secretly about his request that a closer watch be kept on the Shire. He told me he wanted to find the creature Gollum who had been involved in part of the hobbit Bilbo’s journey to Erebor.”

“ _That_ old tale,” Marach started to mutter, but at Aragorn’s look he fell silent.

“More than just a tale,” Elrond interjected sharply. “Has either of you heard it told that Bilbo found a magic ring in Gollum’s cave?”

Both Marach and Borlas shook their head in denial.

Aragorn took a deep breath. _I am not without blame in how this played out, but it has to be said_. He had already told Elrohir on their way here, but some of it would be as new to Elrond as it was to the two Rangers. He glanced at his foster-father’s face, but did not seek to meet his gaze. “Gandalf was looking for Gollum, as he had reason to suspect that the hobbit’s ring might be the Ring of the Enemy. I assured him that I would help to look, as it was only right that Isildur’s heir should labour to repair Isildur’s fault. That was all that Halbarad overheard of what was said between Gandalf and me. His dea…disappearance was less than a year after that.”

“I see…” Borlas said slowly. “It certainly would have been enough for him to draw his own conclusions.” Marach and Elrond remained silent.

“So, with what we just heard in mind, what do you plan for the interrogation and the trial?” Marach asked eventually.

“To learn the purpose and full extent of this incursion, beyond the Orcs now at Mount Gram. Find out how and when Halbarad turned traitor, and the extent of his treason,” Aragorn replied. Part of him still resisted the idea that Halbarad had betrayed him, but he only had to take a deep breath to feel the wound his former friend had dealt him to know that it was so. _I still don’t understand though. It was as if he didn’t recognise me the night of the attack. Not that his strike was any less deadly for it._

He turned to Marach. “You were there when he was first questioned.” Aragorn had already heard Elladan’s thoughts from Elrohir, but he wanted Marach’s insights too.

Marach nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

“What did you think of his manner, and of what he said?”

“He was cooperative with but little pressure, certainly at first, though he grew angry when we doubted his words. He seemed distraught that his son would fight at Mount Gram.”

_Nothing could have stopped Halmir from going there, save a direct order from me. And even then… Once, I would have said the lad is like his father, but that is not the praise it seemed not that long ago._ He set the thought aside. _Halmir doesn’t deserve to be measured against anything but his own merit._ He looked at Marach again. “I hope Halbarad will be as cooperative with me.”

“So do I,” Marach agreed. “But I don’t know that we should trust anything he says, certainly not before we learn his reasons for coming to us.” Elrohir and Borlas nodded in agreement.

“Well then,” Aragorn said. “The interrogation is to begin the day after tomorrow, and the trial will be held on the fifth day. Three days should give us enough time to learn all that we must.” _I would begin the questioning tomorrow already, but Elrohir insists I still need to rest. And much as I would wish it otherwise, he_ is _right._

~*~

“I could say that you were careless,” Elrond said to Aragorn that evening as they sat in the rooms in the Keep that Aragorn was using for now. Elrohir felt that to walk to and from Gilraen’s… _his_ house daily would overtax him.

Aragorn looked down. “I thought so too, but as I realised he had overheard I also thought that the secret was safe with him.” He met Elrond’s gaze. “I _trusted_ him, Father.”

“And if you were wrong in that trust, then I would have been as well,” Elrond said. “I too would have thought it safe to speak of this before him. Do not judge yourself too harshly.”

Aragorn smiled wanly. “I suppose you are right.”

“In this I am.” Elrond stood up. “I shall let you rest now, before Elrohir tells me off for tiring you too much.”

After Elrond had gone, Aragorn quickly blew out the candles and stood looking out into the night for a long time. _I trusted him, I loved him as a brother, and he betrayed me. I do need to hear it from his own lips, though, before I can wholly believe it. And how much of_ that _is reluctance to admit I was wrong in giving him my friendship and trust, that I misjudged him?_

Aragorn turned away from the window, leaving the shutters open. He rubbed his knuckles. He had clenched his hands so hard they hurt. _At least I didn’t punch the wall._

~*~

The next morning, Aragorn was surprised to find the Keep’s seneschal, Bregor, bringing him his breakfast.

“Bregor, sit down for a bit,” he said as the other put a well-filled tray before him.

“I really can’t,” Bregor started to apologise, but Aragorn waved away his objection.

“If you have time to run errands, you have time to keep me company.”

“You have me there, Captain,” Bregor replied and sat down opposite him. “There’s something I needed to talk to you about anyway. You may remember that I was in the patrol that went with you to the Redhorn Pass, when Halbarad d…disappeared. If there’s anything you need to know, I’ll help as best I can, and I’m of course willing to stand as witness.”

“Of course,” Aragorn said. He had in fact remembered, but had not had time yet to seek out Bregor. “I’ll likely ask you to be there for part of the interrogation as well as to stand as witness. Oh, and you don’t have to call me Captain. You’re no longer a Ranger, after all.”

“Of course,” Bregor replied, grinning widely. “As you wish, my lord Chieftain.”

Aragorn rolled his eyes and gave a mock-groan, but Bregor’s gentle teasing did lighten his mood. In his role as seneschal, Bregor was very much proper and formal, but in private he would gladly fall back into the easy manners of Rangers among themselves. _He was a good Ranger, too. It’s a pity he retired after he lost the eye._

Aragorn had finished eating, and Bregor was just about to leave again with the empty tray, when the door opened after only a perfunctory knock, and two men came in.

“Aragorn,” one said. “We need to speak with you urgently.”

“That is obvious, lord Mallor,” Aragorn replied drily. He was not surprised to see that Mallor’s companion was Edrahil. The two usually stuck together in the Council too. “What brings you here, lords?”

Mallor glared at Bregor, but Aragorn signalled to the ex-Ranger to stay. Bregor nodded almost imperceptibly and leant back slightly in his chair.

“I, err, we,” Mallor started, “speaking for the Council, would like to know how you intend to proceed with the trial of the traitor Halbarad Halladanion. It will take several days to call all councillors to Caras Dirnen, but so far I note that no messengers have been sent out.”

Aragorn bit back a sarcastic _that is very observant of you._ “That is right,” he said instead. “He will be tried as a Ranger.” _Best to cut them off at the start, or so I hope._

“He is your kinsman and a lord of the realm and should be tried as such,” Edrahil now said, with Mallor nodding in agreement.

“He is also a Ranger who deserted while on patrol,” Aragorn said, “and all that he is charged with was done by him as such.” _Nor do I want to risk any mention of the One Ring before the Council_.

“You Rangers always claim to take care of your own,” Edrahil replied, glowering at Aragorn. “Seems to me that you should have taken care of this Ranger gone rogue long ago. How is it that he was only caught now, when he has been gone for ten years?”

“He was believed to be dead,” Aragorn replied sharply. “Also, you forget to whom you speak, lord Edrahil.”

“My apologies, lord,” Edrahil quickly answered. “People are uneasy after the outside villages were attacked, and we thought it wise to speak to you of our concern that you should not let the Rangers come first at the expense of the Angle’s interest.”

“Then you have done so now,” Aragorn said, “I can assure you, since you seem to need such assurance, that his trial will be in but four days, and his sentence will be no lighter than if he were tried as a lord of the realm.” _They are right that the people need to see justice done. But it’s more than enough to bear to have Halbarad on trial for his life. I’ll not turn the questioning into a spectacle for the Council’s benefit._

“Is there anything you need, lo…Aragorn?” Bregor asked after the two had left. “I’ll make sure there are no further disturbances.”

“The Council does have a right to the Chieftain’s ear,” Aragorn reluctantly reminded him.

“Not without some notice, if they want your ear in my Keep,” Bregor replied with a grin.

**3013, April 25**

Halbarad had lost track of the days after Dineth’s visit. _Three, four, I don’t know_. A few times the bowl of stew by the door had been cold by the time he had thought to look, and he had not bothered to eat it. _I’m not that hungry._ He shrugged and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position for his left arm. The knot on the sling was working loose and the splint needed adjusting with the swelling starting to go down. _I could do it myself but for the shackles._ He gritted his teeth in frustration at his helplessness.

_Not that it matters if it heals badly._ That morning, Marach had come down and he had spoken with the guard for some time, soft enough that Halbarad could not overhear them, but to Halbarad he had said only one thing. _Four days until the trial. We begin tomorrow morning. Be ready._

_At last. Even if it isn’t the ruling yet. It makes sense that I’ll be questioned first. There’s so much that wasn’t touched on in the camp that they’ll want to know. The Captain will of course be on the tribunal – and to face him will be a trial in itself_. Halbarad realised he was trembling at the thought. _To stand before him and let him see what I am now. I am afraid of that, of him_. He pressed back against the wall of his cell, trying to stop shaking, to regain control of himself. _So, I’m a coward after all, despite my claims to the contrary. Who else will be there? Likely Marach or it would make no sense to take him out of the attack on Mount Gram. The third will probably be whoever took over the captaincy of the Grey Company_. He bit his lip. _I was the captain of the Grey Company_? Something else he had forgotten.

_Will Elladan be there_? Halbarad only noticed that he had moved to cradle his broken arm when the edge of a shackle pressed into his arm. _Others will be as willing to work me over, no doubt about that, but he would try to get into my head again_. He flinched as his guard scraped the legs of his chair along the floor. _I need no convincing to tell what I know – along with my life it’s all I have to give in amends – but I can bear a beating. It’s no more than I’ve earned. Yet to have someone in my thoughts_ …


	5. Chapter 5

**3013, April 26**

Aragorn glanced around the room to gauge the others’ moods. Elrond looked as composed as if he was sitting in council in Rivendell, albeit in breeches and tunic instead of formal robes. Elrohir was watching _him_ and nodded when their eyes met. Borlas merely waited, outwardly patient.

_Five months chasing rumours and coming back empty-handed only to find that Halbarad was dead, and two others in his patrol had also been slain. For years I berated myself over leaving him and the others behind, even though one more sword would scarcely have made a difference_.

Aragorn looked up at a sound from the corridor. _It won’t be long before Marach brings him in._

When Aragorn and Halbarad last parted there had been nothing to hint at the treason Halbarad was about to commit. _If the ambush was his doing, or even if he merely knew about it, it had to have been planned some time before, yet he smiled and embraced me and wished me a good hunt. What was the plan? To capture me? And did they change it to pull out their traitor when I left before the trap could spring? No, Halbarad was the first who urged me to go. But was that a final pang of conscience, or another trap that failed? Curse you, Halbarad! What did the Enemy offer you that was worth any of this?_

Outside, footsteps – two pairs of Ranger boots punctuated by the slap of bare feet between them – approached.

_At last! I want this over with more than anything_. Reflexively, Aragorn braced himself. _I should have gone down to his cell before, and not have this be my first proper sight of him since he attacked the camp. Then perhaps I could stop this wild speculation_. He tried to ignore the tiny voice that whispered, _or see it confirmed_ …

=~*~=

**3013, April 5**

_He wakes up abruptly to horns blowing and the harsh shouts of Orcs too close by._ We’re under attack! _His first impulse is to rush to join the fight, though he is wearing no more than breeches and undershirt, but he stops and puts on his boots and his leather overtunic._ Stupid, to not be ready. I thought the camp was safe enough for small comforts. We all did. _No time for his hauberk – but his thick leather tunic should offer some protection. Last, he grabs his sword belt and puts it on. The moon has not yet set, so it is not entirely dark, but the night’s shadows are deep._

First, gather the men, so we can offer a proper defence. _He turns and sees a Ranger approaching._ Ah, some luck…

_The other comes closer still. He peers to see who it is, prepares to speak._ His face… No. No. It can’t be.. _._ He’s dead. He’s been dead for ten years. _Even now, his breath hitches at the pang of grief that accompanies that thought._

_“Halbarad? Is that you?”_

_There is no recognition, no acknowledgement in the other’s expression._

_“I have no name,” he replies and immediately steps forward, sword in hand. As he moves, his cloak falls open, and Aragorn sees an Orc shirt underneath._

_Biting back a curse for falling for whatever trickery this is, Aragorn attempts a parry, but only manages to deflect the strike. He follows as the other moves to the right, cannot keep his eyes off that too familiar face –_ We knew a Man led the attacks on the farms, butit _can’t_ be him. How…?

_As soon as he moves to block his opponent, he knows he fell for a feint, but the other’s next move still takes him by surprise. Before he can retreat, the other steps in close and grabs his sword arm. They tussle, and now, he sees the other’s face from close by._ It _is_ him, it has to… _He is dazed when the other hits him with the pommel of his sword._

_He never sees the blade coming._

=~*~=

**3013, April 26**

Aragorn looked towards the door again. Halbarad had come close to killing him, but he had done worse in leading Orcs against the Dúnedain who lived outside the Angle. _Did he kill those children himself, or did he order his Orcs to do it?_ _And what evil deeds has he done elsewhere? For all that I counted him a friend once, he may as well be a stranger now._ He closed his eyes trying to clear his thoughts, but could not shut out what he had seen at the raided farms.

As Marach and Bregor entered, Aragorn’s eyes were fixed on the man who walked between them. Halbarad’s hands were chained. He had one arm in a sling and walked with shoulders slumped and his head held low. Filthy, matted hair, grimy skin, his shirt torn and dirty and made of some badly-cured beast-fell. _And Elladan was right. He_ does _stink._

The two Rangers led him in front of the table where Aragorn and the others sat.

“Captain, the prisoner, Halbarad Halladanion,” Marach announced to Aragorn, as both he and Bregor stood at attention.

Halbarad fell to his knees between them and remained thus, head bowed and chained hands held awkwardly in front of him, as Marach sat down next to Borlas and Bregor left the room again at a nod from Aragorn.

“Stand, and look at me,” Aragorn snapped and Halbarad hurriedly scrambled to his feet. He did not look up.

“I _said_ , look at me.” Aragorn did not bother to keep his anger at the other’s defiance out of his voice.

Aragorn almost repeated his order again before Halbarad raised his head slightly. At first he still did not look at Aragorn, his gaze darting around the room instead. He looked at Elrond, his eyes widening, then looked past Elrohirand back again, immediately raising Aragorn’s mistrust. _He fears them both, but Elrohir more it seems. Is that over Elladan’s hard-handed questioning and does he fear that Elrohir will do the same? Or that Elrohir, or indeed Elrond, will know when he lies? If of course there’s_ any _truth in him._ _But is this what he sank to? Then a stranger indeed he has become. And that should make this_ – he hesitated to finish the thought – _easier?_

At last, Halbarad met Aragorn’s gaze.It was just a brief glance, but where once a bright and indomitable spirit had shone, Aragorn only saw darkest despair. It nearly made him recoil and he looked away almost as soon as Halbarad did. _No, this will not be easy, no matter how clear-cut his case may be._ He took a deep breath to collect himself again, and nodded at Marach to ask his first question. _Let’s see how it goes._

“Where did you and your troops cross the Misty Mountains?” Marach asked.

“A pass near Gundabad.”

_Quick enough,_ Aragorn thought, _but it’s a question he’s answered before._ The next question was his.

“What were your orders?”

“To cause enough damage to draw the Rangers out into the open and reveal thei…our…your strengths to the Grea…to the Enemy,” Halbarad replied, only half-meeting Aragorn’s gaze. He had started out speaking quickly, but tailed off and hesitated towards the end.

“Not to establish a foothold on the western side of the Misty Mountains?”

“No, sir.”

“That is all?”

Halbarad looked down and bit his lip. “No,” he said nearly inaudibly, then took a deep breath and looked at Aragorn again. “No, sir,” he repeated. “I was also… If I had the chance… I was to…to kill the Chieftain, to k-kill you.”

_I feared as much._ Aragorn drew a sharp breath. _Thus, then, his betrayal is complete_.The hurt cut deep, deeper than he had thought it would. _Yet he phrased it oddly, evasively._

Before he could ask another question, Elrond spoke.

“Halbarad, were your orders to kill _the_ _Chieftain_ , or to kill _Aragorn_?” he asked, leaning forward.

_Father noticed too._ Aragorn shifted slightly in his chair in preparation for Halbarad’s answer. The question was a good one, but he was also glad for the opportunity to regain his composure.

“The… the Chieftain.” Halbarad met Elrond’s gaze as he spoke.

“I see,” Elrond said.

Aragorn saw as well. _If he was told to kill the Chieftain, rather than me by name, it could mean that the Enemy_ doesn’t _know all as we feared. But then Halbarad would not have revealed… No, that makes no sense. And it may mean merely that the order was put in a way that did not reveal its details to anyone not in the know – I doubt the Enemy trusts his lieutenants, or they each other. This needs further questions. Later._

“Who gave you your orders?” Aragorn asked.

“The Mouth of Sauron,” Halbarad said.

Aragorn and Elrond looked at each other in surprise. _That one’s high in the Enemy’s counsels, and if Halbarad is in_ his _service… I’ll ask more about it later._

The next question came from Borlas. “What reinforcements do you have, and where are they waiting?”

Halbarad’s gaze flicked to Elrohir – _That’s the question over which Elladan broke his arm_ – and then back to Borlas. “None. We were supposed to retreat over the mountains whether or not our purpose had been achieved.”

“Really?” Elrohir interrupted.

Halbarad moved his arms as if to shield himself against an attack, but he was brought up short by his chains. He did turn to look at Elrohir as he replied, “Yes,” then kept glancing back and forth even after Elrohir looked away again.

“So,” Borlas continued as if Elrohir had not interrupted him, “you came north with a few hundred, without reinforcements, and were supposed to just run for the mountains after doing what you were sent for. Is that right?” Halbarad only nodded, and Borlas went on. “Where were you supposed to go afterwards?”

“To the keep of Durthang near Udûn,” Halbarad answered.

“And you could not draw reinforcements from Gundabad?”

“No.” Halbarad almost laughed. “The Orcs there follow their own chiefs and the Mouth’s orders hold no sway. It took a month’s worth of talk just to let us pass.”

“The pass you used, is it guarded?”

“Yes, there are a few caves on the eastern side.”

“Deep caves?”

“Not deep enough for a breeding colony, but there’s a permanent garrison.”

Next, it was Aragorn’s turn again. “I have another question for you: why did you turn traitor to begin with?” He had walked around the table and now stood right in front of Halbarad.

Halbarad looked down, and from what Aragorn could see of his face, he seemed to be thinking.

“Well? It’s not _that_ hard a question.” _It shouldn’t be._

Halbarad continued to look down in silence. At last he took a deep breath and looked up to briefly meet Aragorn’s eyes.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

Borlas gave a snort of derisive laughter, and leant over to Marach to whisper something to him. Aragorn gestured at them to be quiet before turning back to Halbarad.

“Is that so?” Aragorn said. “You disappeared almost as soon as you heard me mention Isildur’s Bane and the search for news of Gollum began, but you don’t remember _why_?” _It may be petty, but I’m beginning to understand why Elladan broke his arm,_ he thought, clenching his fists. _Under that appearance of cooperation, everything_ important _remains_ _well hidden. Yet do I even have the stomach for what it would take to_ make _him speak the truth? But the Ring… We_ must _know_.

“Isildur’s Bane?” Halbarad had taken a step back and looked at him eyes wide open as if in shock. “I…I’m…, sir, I didn’t. I…I can’t…” As he looked down again and between the sling and his shackles attempted to rub at his temples, his distress appeared real.

“Curse you, why? Rule? Riches? What did the Enemy offer you in return for what you would tell him?”

“I don’t know… I can’t… I can’t remember…” Halbarad half-turned away from him, his breath coming in gasps.

“You can’t remember,” Aragorn said. “How convenient.”

“I’m _trying_ to remember!” Halbarad almost shouted, then immediately looked down.

“I wish I could believe that. Look at me!”

Halbarad turned back, his breathing still laboured, but he seemed calmer than before.

“In truth, I am surprised that you remembered leading your Orcs against your own people.” Aragorn had to make an effort to unclench his fists.

_What is he up to? He must have known this would be asked. Yet he’s cunning, he always has been, and so far he’s been almost_ too _willing to answer._ _Marach was right before. We_ must _know first why he gave himself up. The man I knew, or thought I knew, would have fought to the death rather than surrender to his enemies. He_ knew _how our confrontation ended_ – Aragorn resisted the urge to scratch at the half-healed wound – _so what did he think to achieve by this? I had to be either gravely wounded or dead, so whatever his intentions are, he took a gamble by surrendering himself before he knew which. And the sentries only didn’t slay him there and then because he spoke Sindarin when he gave himself up. Only one way I will find out..._

“Maybe you remember this, then: why did you give yourself up?” Aragorn asked. “Do not look away,” he added.

It took some time before Halbarad answered, his words coming in a rush. “After I…after you named me, I…I started to…I remembered things. That I’d forgotten. I knew _you_ , and that I had once been a Ranger… I couldn’t risk telling all, stay with…with the Orcs, keep serving the Enemy…” He faltered, then gave a little sigh and straightened his shoulders. “Sir, I know how _mad_ that sounded, and I do not seek to…to…” He looked down, then met Aragorn’s gaze again. “I…I’m a murderer, a traitor, and as much of a beast as any Orc, but I wish to answer for all I have done.”

Aragorn almost laughed. “Yes, it _does_ sound mad, especially if you expect to be believed.” _Though during the attack he_ did _seem as if he truly didn’t know me. But he sounds as if he believes this himself – or he has become a much better liar than he ever was. But ‘telling all’? Is he saying he did_ not _?_ That _I certainly can’t believe._

“And as for the other, your remorse comes a bit late.” Aragorn’s tone quelled any reply. “Perhaps you turned yourself in because you knew your Orcs were about to be defeated by the Rangers. Or perhaps you reckoned that you might have a chance to still finish one part of your mission if you could come near enough to me with a blade in hand.”

Elrohir reached over and tapped Aragorn’s arm to draw his attention.

“Perhaps we should move on to the next question for now. Shall we call in Bregor?” he said, and Aragorn noticed Halbarad’s glance at Elrohir. _He takes that as a threat. But does he fear violence, or having his lies unmasked?_

Aragorn sighed. “Of course,” he added, Elrohir’s gentle tone quieting his own temper. _I’ve been letting my frustration get the better of me. And anger never had much effect on him._ Elrohir gave him a sharp look as he sat down again, but said nothing.

Once Aragorn returned to his chair and Marach had gone outside to have word sent to Bregor, there was little to do but wait. Aragorn continued to watch Halbarad. _A look used to be enough between us, but now… I cannot fathom him at all. And the little I_ do _see makes no sense,_ none _of it does_ – _I would have expected hatred or defiance rather than this wretched misery. The remorse may even be genuine. But if he’s putting up a front, that’s what I’d expect to see as well. Perhaps we’ll get more out of him on the ambush itself._

Bregor must have expected the summons as it was only a short while before he arrived. He nodded at Aragorn and the others in greeting and after looking for a chair settled for leaning against the table beside Borlas instead. He only gave Halbarad a cursory glance.

Before he could start his tale, Elrohir turned to Halbarad. “Do you know this man?” and he indicated Bregor.

“Yes, he brought me here from my cell this morning, along with captain Marach,” Halbarad replied.

“That is all?” Elrohir insisted as Aragorn noted Bregor’s confused look. _They’ve known each other for tens of years._

“Yes.” As before, Halbarad’s expression suggested that he was trying to remember.

After a further confused glance at Halbarad, Bregor started his tale.

“As we entered the lands near the Redhorn Pass, we were wary, for there had been word of Dunlendings looking to settle north of Glanduin, and other patrols had seen shepherds roaming with their flocks and their dogs. So we sought to avoid them, but then we found tracks of Orcs and Wargs close by. Before long the Wargs had picked up our trail, and Halbarad suggested Aragorn should head for the mountains on his own, while we would lure our enemies away from him.”

“The Orcs did not attack straightaway, but followed us for most of the day. Looking back, it’s clear that rather than us drawing them away from Aragorn, they were herding us to the place of the ambush. In the first attack, Gethron and Soronto fell to their archers, but the fight was soon too close for archery. We attempted to break through to fall back to a position that was more defensible, but then Halbarad went down, and there were only three of us left.”

Elrond interrupted Bregor to ask, “Did you see what happened to Halbarad?”

Halbarad had shown no reaction to Bregor’s story so far, but now he raised his head to look at him.

_He looks like someone listening to one of the tales of old,_ Aragorn thought. _Curious how the tale goes, but not as if it involves_ him.

“No,” Bregor said, “or rather, not very well. It was already getting dark and I saw no more than a flash of a sword coming at him before he stumbled and fell to one knee, before my sight was blocked again by an Orc fighting one of the others, I think Daeron. I tried to get to Halbarad, but couldn’t. After that, more Orcs, Warg riders, arrived, and we were driven off. The Orcs kept after us, but Daeron, Tavor and I managed to stay together as we retreated. We had some luck at last as we ended up in a place that was easily defended, and the Orcs did no more after that than keep us there.”

“Wait,” Marach now interrupted. “Daeron was in that patrol?”

Both Aragorn and Bregor nodded in confirmation.

“Is that why you cut his throat?” Marach asked Halbarad. “To get rid of a witness and clear the way for whatever you thought to achieve here?”

“No,” Halbarad said almost immediately, then more hesitantly, “or, I don’t think so…” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t even know who he was when I killed him. He was standing guard and I needed to get past him to get into the camp.”

“You remember killing him? I’m amazed.” Marach snorted in disgust. “Bregor, I’d watch my back near him if I were you.”

Bregor shrugged, and went on at a nod from Aragorn.

“The Orcs kept us pinned down where we had holed up, until they just disappeared on the third day. We made sure that they were gone, and went back to the place of the ambush. There was no sign of any of the bodies of the men we’d lost.”

“How did you know they were dead if you didn’t see their bodies?” Borlas asked.

“I was coming to that,” Bregor replied. “We continued to search for them and for anything we could find about the attack. It was the next day before we found the Orcs’ camp, which had been abandoned by then. There were bones lying around, and we found Ranger boots, some of the contents of their packs, and clothing from all three of our companions. The Wargs had eaten well, and perhaps the Orcs too.” Bregor looked sick to his stomach at the memory. “Many of the smaller bones that we found had been gnawed to mere shards, and the large bones were so cracked and splintered and burned that it never entered our thoughts that there might be anything wrong about them, and we just wanted to lay to rest what was left of our fellows.”

Bregor rested his head in his hands for a moment before he went on. “So we gathered what remains we could and dug a pit – and then we went home. Now I wonder where the third body came from.”

At a look from Elrohir, Bregor gave a grim little smile. “Yes, the bones we found belonged to Men, not Orcs. Certainly the heads, that much I know. I imagine they butchered some hapless Dunlending shepherd to hide their little trick.”

_Then did he use the attack to stage his death?_ Aragorn had heard what had happened to the patrol before, but never with the thought that the attack had been a set-up. _It does fit._

“Do you have anything to say?” he asked Halbarad, who had remained silent throughout, and was now looking at the ground, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. “Did you plan this?”

“I…I don’t remember _any_ of it,” Halbarad said. “I may have, but I don’t know.”

_I have had it with his excuses,_ Aragorn thought. “Every time we ask you something important, that is your reply. I’m beginning to think that your purpose in turning yourself in was to see how much of our time you could waste before we would have enough of this.”

Halbarad said nothing – _unsurprisingly_ – but from the corner of his eye Aragorn noticed Elrond wanting to speak, and he nodded at him to go ahead.

“Before you go on, I have some questions as well,” Elrond said.

“Please ask them,” Aragorn replied. _I keep coming up against that ‘I don’t remember’ of his, and I can’t even tell whether or not it is true._

~*~

Halbarad had taken another step back, his stance wary, defensive, as Elrond stood up and walked to where Aragorn had been standing.

_I would tell him I will do him no harm, but when I think of what he did, and what he could have cost us…_ Elrond managed not to glance at Aragorn. _Or anything he_ did _reveal, and the harm that has no doubt done, I find it hard to say it_ , Elrond thought _. I’ll settle for not having him panic or refuse to answer over reassurance. Too much of what we asked so far were only the first questions we need to ask._

“Earlier, when Aragorn asked why you gave yourself up, you said that you had started to remember. What did you mean by that?”

“M-master Elrond, I…I’ll try to explain.” Halbarad took a deep breath. “Who I was… I had no name, not a proper, real name when I served the…the Enemy…” He was silent for some time, as if gathering his thoughts. “During the attack on the camp, the Captain called me Halbarad, and I didn’t…didn’t know he…I…,” Halbarad eventually continued. “But after, I…I _knew_ that Halbarad was my name, and I wondered how he, how a stranger knew it.”

_A_ stranger _? There_ is _something odd about his memory..._ Elrond glanced at Aragorn, who was watching Halbarad, but briefly turned his head to nod at Elrond, confirming that there _had_ been something peculiarabout Halbarad in the Ranger camp – _beyond him trying to kill Aragorn, that is._ “What do you mean by ‘stranger’? Did you not know Aragorn?” he prompted Halbarad, who had gone silent again.

Halbarad shook his head. “No. I only knew he was the Captain of the Rangers,” he said. “But… no… no, that was not all. I’d seen him before, some years ago, east of Anduin. From a distance. They were going south, him and an old man.”

_That must have been one of Aragorn’s journeys with Mithrandir to find trace of Gollum_ , Elrond thought. _Even if as he seemed to say before, Halbarad didn’t tell the Enemy all he knew – but why wouldn’t he have, except to attempt to bargain? – any description of Mithrandir would have been enough to worry Sauron greatly. He is certainly ever hunting for any news of his Ring, and would be quick to suspect others of the same._

“What did you do then?” Aragorn asked abruptly.

“I followed you for a day, sir, and when I returned to Durthang, I…I told my master of the strangers I’d seen,” Halbarad said.

“Your master? The Mouth of Sauron?” Elrond asked, and at Halbarad’s nod went on. “Can you recall aught of what he asked you about these _strangers_?”

“He kept asking me to describe them, over and over, in as much detail as I could, especially the old man,” Halbarad replied with a shudder.

“I see,” Elrond said – _and from that shudder I doubt the questioning was pleasant_ – and looked at Aragorn again. His foster son appeared deep in thought. “I will have more questions about that, but for now I’ll return to the attack on the camp. So, you did not recognise Aragorn at that time, but you did remember later?”

Halbarad nodded, but before Elrond could continue, Elrohir interrupted him in thought. _Father, I’d like to stop the questioning for now. He’ll not admit it, but Estel is starting to tire._

_I will keep it short,_ Elrond replied to Elrohir, after a quick glance at Estel confirmed his son’s words.

“These things you do not remember,” Elrond said to Halbarad. “Do you have any recent head wounds?”

“N-no,” he replied.

“From longer ago?” Elrond asked.

“I don’t thi…I don’t know.”

“Do you get headaches often?”

Halbarad looked down. “Sometimes.”

“Did you have any today, and when?”

“When I was trying to, to remember…” Halbarad replied, still staring intently at the ground.

“Look at me.” Elrond spoke softly, but sharply.

Slowly, Halbarad looked up and met his gaze. _I see no deceit in him on this, but the Enemy is wily, and it would be wise to expect traps within traps within this man._

“Now, I want to look at your hea…”

Halbarad’s gaze darkened and he looked abruptly fearful. _No…_ he almost sighed, so softly was it said, then again, louder, “No.”

“Be at ease.” Elrond raised his hands slightly. “I only wish to know whether you have any scars or old injuries. I will not look unbidden into your thoughts.” _Elladan!_ Elrond thought not for the first time. _We_ will _have words when I return to Imladris._

Elrohir had stood up as soon as Elrond spoke his intent. _Do you need any help?_

_No, thank you_ ,Elrond answered.

_You don’t want me to restrain him?_

_No,_ Elrond repeated, then added at Elrohir’s look, _I think I have the upper hand over a man in chains, don’t you? Besides, he has offered no resistance so far._

Halbarad had not yet answered. His whole posture was rigid, and his eyes were still dark with fear, but when Elrond met his gaze again, he reluctantly nodded his assent.

Elrond extended his hands to Halbarad’s head, and with a little twitch of distaste at the filthy mess of hair he had to touch, he started his examination. Halbarad flinched at the first touch, but otherwise stood still. At first Elrond found nothing out of the ordinary, but then he moved his hand to behind Halbarad’s right ear. _A scar._ He tried to part the hair over it, but it was too matted to let him get a good look at what lay under it. _It does feel as if it’s older though, some years at least. And_ … His fingers probed the skin around the scar and he felt a slight indentation. _And the bone underneath has been damaged. Whatever injury caused this scar was enough to break the skull itself_.

“This scar,” he said. “Do you remember what happened for you to be so injured?”

“No,” Halbarad replied, shaking his head.

“I will look at it closer later,” Elrond said to him. “But for now this is all.” As he turned to go back to his chair, he glanced at the splint on Halbarad’s broken arm. _That’s looser than it should be._

“Just one moment,” Elrond said. “Halbarad, hold out your left arm.”

Halbarad had already gone back to staring at the ground, but when Elrond spoke he looked at him immediately. _He is still afraid, though he attempts to hide it._

“Your arm,” Elrond repeated. “The splint is working loose. I want to tighten the bindings again.”

“I know they’re loose,” Halbarad replied softly. “It doesn’t matter.” He did hold out his arm though.

“It does to me,” Elrond replied, as he quickly tightened the strips of linen that held the splint in place. _I’ll take a look at the break itself later._ He returned to his seat as Elrohir leant over to whisper something to Estel, who nodded reluctantly.

Estel then turned to Marach and Bregor. “We are done for now. If you would return the prisoner to his cell?”

“Bregor, can you have him cleaned up and his hair cut?” Elrond added. “I will want to examine him this afternoon.”


	6. Chapter 6

**3013, April 26**

Marach and Bregor – Halbarad still did not remember him as he apparently should have done – took Halbarad back to his cell and spoke briefly with the guard before they left.

As Halbarad sat down, he leant back against the wall and let out a shuddering breath. _This was only the first morning, and_ already _I couldn’t answer so many questions. And when I did answer I babbled like a fool. I remember enough to know that I’m a monster, as vile as any of the Enemy’s creatures. The attacks on the farms alone… But WHY?_ Why _can’t I remember?_ Why _did I turn traitor? But I didn’t remember the One Ring either. I suppose it’s good I forgot_ that _, before... What the Enemy wouldn’t have done to learn_ that _secret._

He had regained his name and some memory of who he had been after remembering Aragorn. _But I nearly slew him, and I cannot even tell him why. How do I recall it? If I could only_ … He tried to delve deeper into his memory, but even this light a touch brought on a blinding headache and he drew back from the attempt.

Halbarad rubbed at his temples to try to ease his aching head and moved his right hand back until he reached the scar Master Elrond had found. _I don’t even remember how or when I gained_ that. _I certainly never thought it was important. And now Master Elrond wants a closer look at it. He didn’t look into my thoughts, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do so later._ He shivered and leant his head on his knees. _I should try to rest, even if I can’t quite sleep. The questioning will certainly go on._

The door of the guardroom opened, and Halbarad looked up immediately. _The guard’s shift change?_ Several Rangers came in, but in the dim light he could not see their faces. _Not the shift change. Questioning?_

He stood up and came over as soon as he was called. Out of the four men waiting for him Bregor was the only one he recognised. One of the Rangers opened the cell door, and as he came out they quickly and silently led him up several stairs. Halbarad wondered where they were going. _They’re not taking me to this morning’s room...? A beating, to try to get answers to all that I couldn’t remember? With perhaps Elrohir to break into my thoughts… Master Elrond only said_ he _wouldn’t… Or Bregor to question me… No, Aragorn will not let another do his dirty work for him. If he thinks it necessary to use force, he’ll be there himself._ Already in the morning he had seen how angry Aragorn was over his failure to answer. _I betrayed him. His anger is the least I deserve, and answers are the least_ he _deserves._

Now the men led him down again, until at last they entered a vaulted corridor. After a few more turns, one of the Rangers opened a door.

_That… what?_ The room was long and narrow, with a bench on one side and some shelves on the wall above it, and on the end _…_ _A bath?_

“Sit,” Bregor said with a nod towards the bench, and as soon as Halbarad had obeyed, he took a pair of scissors from a shelf. “I’m going to cut your hair first before you take a bath,” he added when Halbarad flinched from his hand.

_A bath?_ Halbarad thought again as Bregor cut away at his hair. The tugging at his head when tangles of hair did not immediately give way to the scissors made it difficult, but he managed a look around the room. Next to the bath he saw a towel, soap and a washcloth, and what looked like a stack of folded clothes. _Another thing I can’t remember: the last time I had my hair this short. It must have been before I went over to the Enemy, but_ that _is hardly a revelation anyone will be interested in hearing._ He was certain he had never done more to his hair since then except to take a knife to it to cut it back to somewhere above shoulder length when it bothered him.

One of the Rangers spluttered and murmured something from which Halbarad only caught ‘expect us to scrub the murderous filth’s back’.

Bregor replied with a snort. “Hardly, but Master Elrond requested that he has a bath, and so a bath is what he will have.”

_A bath’s better than a beating, even if I deserve one of those more than I deserve this,_ Halbarad thought, managing to hold back a snort of his own.

Bregor put away the scissors and removed Halbarad’s shackles. “Take off those filthy rags and get in the water,” he said.

Halbarad walked over to the bath. He tried to raise his left arm over his head to take off his shirt, but muscles he had barely used for weeks seized up and cramped, and he could only curse in pain.

He tried again.

“Stop,” one of the Rangers ordered. “Stand still.”

The sound of a knife being drawn took Halbarad back to the Ranger camp and his panic over his bloodied cloak. _Stay calm_. _Don’t…_ A few deep breaths, and his fear subsided somewhat. It was enough to keep him from flinching or pulling away when the Ranger took hold of his shirt and used his knife to cut through the hem before tearing it open along a seam.

Halbarad spoke his thanks without thinking about it. He braced himself for the blow that was bound to… that when he served the Mouth _would_ have followed. _Nothing._

“Take off your trousers and get in the bath,” the Ranger ordered, but as Halbarad’s shirt fell away from his back, the other drew in a sharp breath. “No, don’t move. Lord Seneschal, you should see this.”

~*~

After Bregor and Marach left with Halbarad, Aragorn led the other three to the room where he had told them about the One Ring.

Elrohir pointed Aragorn towards a chair. “Sit down before you fall over,” he said.

“I’m not that tired,” Aragorn protested, but he did sit down.

“Maybe not,” Elrohir allowed. “But you should still take _some_ care of yourself. It’s only been…”

“…a few days since I was first up, I know,” Aragorn said. He managed a smile as Elrohir held his gaze before sitting down as well. _In truth, I am more weary than I would care to admit after this morning, and it’s as much the weight of sorrow as my wound. I still cannot fathom Halbarad’s betrayal, even less now that I’ve spoken to him._

Not long after, Marach joined them, accompanied by two men carrying trays filled with bread that was still warm, and cheese and jugs of water and light ale.

“What do you make of this morning?” Borlas said once they had eaten. When no one spoke, he leant forward slightly before answering his own question. “I knew him well enough before, and I’d say that he wasn’t lying, at least not about not remembering.”

“On that he was truthful, I agree,” Elrohir said. “Whether he spoke the truth about what he revealed to the Enemy… He seemed sincere, but it makes little sense that he would not betray the things his new lord would be most eager to hear.”

_I cannot, I_ dare _not take what he said as truth. And yet, I too would say that he seemed sincere._ Aragorn thought. Perhaps speaking his thoughts now would help him find clarity. “Indeed, it makes no sense. I could have understood it if he had spoken of some grievance, some _reason_ for his actions. But this… He gives no reason for why he turned traitor, and then he claims he did not reveal the very things the Enemy would have wanted to know most. And that is what I want to ask him about this afternoon after Master Elrond’s examination.”

Elrond looked at him long before he spoke. “Yet if he did speak the truth, unlikely as it seems, our situation is not as dire as I feared. Still I would be wary of what he says. The Enemy is wily.”

“Him not having revealed _those things_ would be all to the good, even if it makes little sense,” Marach said. “Yet we haven’t learned why he gave himself up either, though he was quick to admit to the farm raids.”

_Even so it is hard to see only the man who led Orcs against his own people, and not the man who was my dearest friend. For all that he once was, I should consider only what he has become._ Aragorn felt a flash of anger as he remembered the slaughter at the attacked farms. _Yet I cannot separate the two as I wish I could. But whether once a friend or wholly an enemy, a stranger, I do owe him a fair judgement as much as I owe justice for those who died because of him._

There was a knock on the door.

“Enter,” Aragorn called, and a Ranger entered.

“I have a message from the Lord Seneschal, sir,” the Ranger said. “He is ready to return the prisoner to the interrogation room to be examined by Master Elrond.”

“Thank you, Amroth,” Aragorn said. “Please tell the seneschal we will see him there.”

On their way back to the other room, Aragorn had to admit Elrohir had been right before. _I feel like an old man. I don’t have my strength back yet, even with the wound well on its way to healing._ He caught a concerned glance from Elrond, but shook his head. _I can keep up_.

When they entered the interrogation room, Bregor had already brought in Halbarad, who was sitting on a low stool, wearing only white linen smallclothes. On the table next to Bregor lay a stack of folded clothes along with Halbarad’s shackles and the splint for his arm. Halbarad sat hunched in on himself, head down. He had not looked up as Aragorn and the others entered and sat down. Bregor stood beside him as his guard, and made as if to leave once the others had come in.

“Bregor,” Aragorn said, “have a chair brought in, and join us.” Like Elrond and Elrohir, the seneschal would have no say in the tribunal’s final judgement, but he too had known Halbarad well and had already offered good insights.

As Halbarad turned to look at Bregor, Aragorn caught sight of a pattern of long scars criss-crossing Halbarad’s back. Beside him, Aragorn heard Marach bite back a curse in surprise.

Aragorn stood up and walked around the table. “Halbarad, how…why was this done?” he asked, his voice sharp with the disgust he felt at the sight. _No need to ask how. Those are flogging scars._ He had seen them before – the punishment was not used in the North, but some Gondorian sea captains did use it to maintain discipline on board their ships. _Though no one would willingly sail with a captain who has so little restraint in punishment as to leave such scars. Those I have only seen on men who escaped Umbar’s rowing benches_.

Halbarad gave no sign that he had even heard Aragorn’s words.

“Halbarad,” Aragorn repeated, glancing at Elrond, who nodded at him to go ahead. When Halbarad did not react, Aragorn took another step forward. He crouched down in front of Halbarad and tried to meet his eyes. _I doubt he sees me. Or anything in this room._ “Halbarad,” he said again, his tone gentler now.

Halbarad still did not reply. Then, with a slow inhale of breath, his gaze lost some of its far-off focus.

“Halbarad.” Aragorn’s tone was soft still, but insistent as well. “Why were you flogged?” he asked again. _And please,_ don’t _say you have forgotten_.

Halbarad finally met Aragorn’s gaze, appearing startled to find anyone in front of him.

“Why?” he repeated. “For using the Forbidden Name. For not calling _him_ the Great Lord. After…when I’d told my master that I’d seen that old man near the Brown Lands, with a…with another traveller – with you – and he kept making me describe all that I’d seen over and over, I asked why…” Halbarad’s breathing was ragged, and he swallowed several times before he went on, his voice sounding hoarse, “…why… Sauron… would even care about two such roadworn and scruffy-looking wanderers.”

Elrohir laughed softly at the description, and Aragorn allowed himself a quick glare at his brother and an annoyed gesture to ask for silence.

Halbarad went on – _did he even notice Elrohir’s interruption?_ Aragorn wondered – “My m…the Mouth… he stopped, ordered me to repeat what I said. When I did, he struck me, and told two of his other men to take me outside. I was chained to a post and given ten lashes.”

“That was all?” Aragorn asked. “I am no expert on flogging, but I doubt _this_ was the result of ten lashes.”

“The second time I misspoke, I was given twenty lashes,” Halbarad said, continuing as if Aragorn had not spoken. “And he, the Mouth, he was in my head, making it hurt worse. Making it so that when…whenever I say… or think about saying… Sauron, I’d, I’d feel again what he did.” He was trembling.

Aragorn started to reach out to put a hand on Halbarad’s shoulder, then abruptly drew back his arm as if he had been scalded. _I’d have done that before,_ he thought, shocked at how easily the gesture had come. At the unexpected movement Halbarad drew in on himself again. _As if he expects to be hit. Was such the treatment meted out to him by them? His reward for his treason?_

“Captain,” Borlas said, “if I may?”

Aragorn nodded at him to speak.

“And this…whatever it is the Mouth did,” Borlas asked Halbarad. “It still…how does it work? You feel as if you’re being flogged when you say…”

Halbarad shook his head. “Not like that. The Mouth’s voice _inside_ my head – and that hurt worse than the flogging – saying a good man, a loyal servant would not even think the Forbidden Name, would not insult his lord. I can still not say _Sauron_ ” – he nearly _spat_ the name at Borlas – “without feeling what the Mouth did, without feeling sick from the pain.”

“I find it hard to believe that anyone could do a thing like that,” Marach said. “How are we to believe this, when your only other answer has been that you don’t remember? Although…” He turned to address Elrond. “Could you _see_ the truth of it, Master Elrond?”

“I might be able to do so.” Elrond spoke carefully. “But I would not attempt it unless Halbarad allows it.”

“You would bargain for permission from a murderer, a traitor?” Marach asked.

“ _I_ would, and not for his sake, or not solely, but for the sake of the one doing the seeing,” Elrohir spoke up. “It is an evil in itself to force oneself into another’s thoughts against their will.”

“It is as my son says,” Elrond said to Marach. The Ranger looked pensive, then nodded.

“And after that, were you flogged again?” Aragorn asked Halbarad after a brief silence. _It is no great revelation that the Enemy and his servants reward treason with cruelty, but even so there is something not quite right about this tale – just as with all he said this morning._

“One more time,” Halbarad said, still looking down. “Forty lashes.”

“You were always stubborn, but never that slow to learn,” Aragorn said. _That came out harsher than I intended. Or did it?_ he wondered. “Why was it hard for you to speak properly of the lord you chose for yourself?” _Properly indeed,_ he scoffed at himself as he waited for Halbarad’s answer.

“I…I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know why I couldn’t,” Halbarad replied.

“Father, please take over now.” Aragorn returned to his chair. _Before I lose my patience with him_. _I’ve well and truly had it with his “I don’t know’s”._

~*~

Elrond stood up and walked over to Halbarad. _I came here to deal with what the Enemy might have found out from his betrayal, not to be healer to a traitor. But of those who might have done this otherwise, Elrohir was too close to him once, and as for Estel... And so it falls to me, whether or not I want it._

Elrohir was talking to Aragorn, and Elrond hoped his son would be able to ease Estel’s frustration. _Not that I don’t understand it – I too don’t know yet whether Halbarad is lying or whether he truly doesn’t remember all he claims._

Elrond cleared his throat before he spoke to Halbarad. “As I said this morning, I will now examine you further.”

Halbarad looked up, his expression wary.

“Stand up,” Elrond added, and quickly looked Halbarad up and down as he obeyed. _He is thin, too thin._ _And many scars, some older, some more recent – but that is much like any warrior. They seem to have healed well enough. Though by rights the wound that caused that scar on his leg should have crippled or killed him._ “Have you been treated well since your surrender?” he asked. There were no marks that might speak of ill treatment by his guards. _For which Bregor may be to thank._

“Yes, Master Elrond, better than I deserve.” He did not meet Elrond’s gaze.

“Are you fed well?” _Thin as you are, you’ve done little more than look at your food –_ but he did not say it out loud.

“Yes.” Halbarad shrugged. “I don’t always feel hungry,” he admitted. “And when the food’s gone cold, it’s… I don’t bother eating.”

“I see,” Elrond said. “Does the broken arm still pain you?”

“No, sir,” Halbarad replied. “I hardly feel it.”

“Hmm, indeed,” Elrond said. _It has barely been a fortnight. I doubt that is true._ “Hold out your arm.”

“The swelling is reducing well _,_ ” Elrond noted, “and any bruising has mostly faded _._ ” He took Halbarad’s elbow in one hand and lightly touched his upper arm with the other. “This will be painful,” Elrond warned as he carefully probed what he could feel of the bone. _At least he’s clean enough to touch now._

“Doesn’t matter,” Halbarad mumbled. Only a sharp intake of breath and a tensing of muscles betrayed that he felt any pain.

“It is healing straight, but not as fast as it might,” Elrond said. “Use the sling to rest your arm as much as you can.” Normally, after two weeks, he would set some gentle exercises to move the arm without stressing the break. _Given his situation, though…_ With a shake of his head, he tied the splint back on, making sure it was neither too tight nor too loose. _I should also do something about that raw patch on his wrist before he is shackled again – Elrohir, could you hand me bandages and salve?_

The wrist was soon taken care of, and Elrond told Halbarad to sit down. As Halbarad obeyed, Elrond asked, “Do you remember how you came by the scar on your right leg?”

Halbarad only shook his head in denial.

“Does it ever bother you?”

“Sometimes it hurts after I’ve been running for a long time, but that’s all.”

_Not a wound from before his betrayal, or Bregor would not have called my attention to it after he saw it,_ Elrond thought. _I wonder who tended it if he did indeed take it while serving the Enemy, and how he gained it._ He crouched down next to Halbarad to better study the scar. When he probed it, he could feel a hard ridge of damaged and scarred tissue, but he had to admit the wound had healed well. _It was close to bone deep,_ he thought. _I am not too surprised that he does not remember how it happened. Wound fever can blank memory if it runs high and long. And now for that head wound…_

In the morning Elrond had only been able to examine it by touch. Now, with Halbarad’s hair clean and cut short, he could see the scarring. Even so, Elrond made sure to determine the extent of the injury by touch also. Halbarad sat quietly as Elrond examined the wound. _This too has been tended well. And with the dent in his skull, this wound may have caused some memory loss also. But neither wound is enough to explain_ all _his problems, and whether he speaks the truth on all that he claims he does not remember remains unanswered._

“And you do not remember either the leg wound or this injury?” Elrond asked.

“No, sir.” Halbarad spoke so soft he was almost inaudible.

“When you were injured, who usually tended your wounds?” Elrond asked.

“When I was able to, I stitched them up myself.”

“You… why?” Marach interrupted

“I wouldn’t let anyone else do it,” Halbarad said. “No one trusts Orcs, not even other Orcs,” he added wryly.

“And how often did you have to?” Marach asked.

“Not often,” Halbarad replied.

“Why not? Were _all_ your opponents sleeping farmers?”

Halbarad flinched and looked down again, his face flushed dark red.

“Can you show me a wound that you tended yourself?” Elrond asked next, adding with a sharp glance at Marach, “We’ll get back to the farm raids and all else he’s done later.”

Still avoiding Elrond’s gaze, Halbarad nodded and pointed out a thin scar along his ribs. Elrond crouched down again to look at it. _Hardly the worst such job I have seen from a Ranger._ “Do you recall learning how to stitch a wound, or where you learned?” He knew the answer already, since all Ranger recruits were taught enough to deal with simple injuries. _Though not all have the steadiness to stitch their own wounds._

“I’m not sure,” Halbarad said. “I must have learned it, but I couldn’t say when.”

“Truly?” Elrond asked, and Halbarad shrugged before looking away again. “And at Durthang?”

“There was a healer there,” Halbarad replied. “A man of Rhûn. He tended me after I was flogged.”

Elrond nodded and moved to his next question. “Do you remember the healer at Durthang tending either your leg or your head?” Elrond asked.

“No, sir,” Halbarad replied.

“Halbarad, before, you said that you only knew Aragorn and remembered that you had been a Ranger _after_ Aragorn called you by name. Did you know your name before then?”

“No, sir,” Halbarad replied immediately.

“And you did not think that strange?”

Halbarad quickly met his gaze before looking away and staring at his hands for some time. “No, it was just… how things were. To try to remember anything hurt… I knew better than to even try.”

“Did it hurt like what you feel when you say Sauron?” Elrond asked.

“Not… No, headaches…” Halbarad looked back down at his hands while a troubled look passed across his face.

Elrond waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. _I shall leave it for now, and let his questioning continue._ Out loud he said, “Then it is time to bring this exam to an end. If there is more you can say about your memory or if there is more that you remember, tell me.”

Elrond turned back to the others. “I may want to ask further questions of him later,” he said. “For now I am done. On the whole he is in fairly good health, though he is too thin. His broken arm is healing, but a bit slower than it should for one of Númenorean blood. Looking at his scars, the severe wounds he sustained while serving the Enemy, both the head wound and the one to his leg were cared for well, and both are such that had I tended any man with such injuries, I would not have dared guarantee his survival. Yet he was also punished ruthlessly as we can see from his flogging scars. It is not unlikely the head wound and wound fever from the leg wound caused some memory loss, but I can find no physical cause for his inability to remember so much.”

He turned to the seneschal. “Bregor, instruct his guards to see to it that he eats.” _But_ what _drove him to treason? Despite what he did and what his betrayal could have cost us, in what I can sense without looking into his thoughts, there is no hatred or anger against Estel or the Dúnedain. I wish he’d let me see into his memories, but as fearful as he is of that… Still, if the questioning continues to lead to naught, I may suggest it._

~*~

_What did I think this examination would achieve?_ Aragorn gritted his teeth as he considered Elrond’s findings _._ Clearly, Halbarad’s life with the Enemy’s servants had been harsh, but that was no surprise. _I cannot let pity touch me. He brought this on himself. I’d hoped that he’d say more. That he would tell me, tell us_ why _. But even if he doesn’t remember or won’t admit to knowing what we want to know, he doesn’t deny any of what he’s charged with, and we know enough already to bring this to an end in ample time for the trial._

Aragorn glanced at Halbarad who stood waiting, now dressed in clean, if too short, shirt and trousers. _No. He was once so much more than this, and whatever made him turn traitor, I am not so bad a judge of men that I would not have known if he had always been false. Hard as it is, I will get to the bottom of this. If it comes to it, I will delay the trial. He deserves no less of me._

=~*~=

**2980, September 6**

_It is still early in the day, but after his years in the South_ – and the long delay in Lothlórien – _Aragorn is eager to be back home, and –_ I am being watched. A sentry, here? _– He slows down and looks around._ There!

_A Ranger steps out on to the path, drawn bow in hand._

_A challenge. “Stranger, I would see your face.”_

_Aragorn lowers the hood of his cloak._ Is that…? _“…Halbarad?”_

_The other lowers his bow. “Aragorn!”_

_They do not_ quite _run the thirty paces between them._

_“What took you so long?” Halbarad asks as they embrace. “I’ve been expecting you since the spring.”_

=~*~=

**3013, April 26**

_He was true_ then _, and for the sake of who he was, I will not rush this, and I will not let petty feeling rule me. But, Halbarad, why?_ Aragorn shook his head and released a sigh.

“Captain,” Borlas said after a brief silence. “I have some more questions.”

“Go ahead,” Aragorn said. He also had several more questions, but if any of them were met with ‘I don’t know’ again… _Best to let the others take over for a while. And I’m certain Elrond has some thoughts about the damnable memory loss, but we can talk about that later._

“Thank you, Captain,” Borlas said. “Halbarad, what were your duties for your master?”

“Before I was sent here, I was sent east to wage war.”

“Against whom, and did you lead Men or Orcs?”

“Against those who would rebel against the… against... Sauron.” Only a sharp intake of breath revealed Halbarad’s ill ease at using the name. “Men and Orcs both,” Halbarad added.

“And were those military campaigns or against towns and villages?” Marach interrupted.

Halbarad looked down. “Both.”

Borlas leant over to Marach and whispered something to him that Aragorn could not hear, then turned to Halbarad again. “Earlier you said that after this campaign you were supposed to return to the keep of Durthang. Was that usual?”

“Yes,” Halbarad said. “I always had to return there.”

“And you did so too after you went east?”

“Yes, all three times. There were prisoners.” He elaborated at Borlas’ questioning look. “I had to question them.” He looked down.

“Then you speak the languages of Rhûn or Khand?” Aragorn asked in one of the Rhûnian tongues he had learned on his journeys.

“Some of them,” Halbarad replied in the same speech.

“And this questioning…” Aragorn went on, going back to Westron.

“I tortured and slew them, sir.”

_You…_ Aragorn did not attempt to hide his revulsion.

Halbarad looked up briefly, but looked back at the ground immediately when he met Aragorn’s gaze.

“And did you report to the Mouth?” Elrohir broke the silence that had fallen.

“Yes,” Halbarad mumbled, still looking down.

“Look at me,” Elrohir said, and when Halbarad did, he held his gaze long before asking his next question. “Tell me about the campaigns and other tasks you undertook for your master.”

“Those were the only ones I remember in any detail.” Halbarad looked down again.

“Look at me,” Elrohir repeated. “So, what _do_ you remember of the time you served the Enemy? You cannot remember the reason for your betrayal, but when you saw Aragorn again in the attack on the camp you remembered that you had seen him before, even when you didn’t know him. That was what – three, four years ago?” Elrohir glanced at Aragorn for confirmation.

“Four,” Aragorn said.

Elrohir turned his attention back to Halbarad. “The ambush in Hollin was ten years ago. In all that time, did you never wonder who you were or question anything you did?”

Halbarad remained silent for some time, and Elrohir looked ready to prompt him, when he took a deep breath. He looked at Elrohir. “I didn’t think there had been a _before_ , that I had ever not been in the Enemy’s service. And to think about what I did not remember only brought pain. I didn’t know I was a traitor or that I even had a name. I was just…it was how things were…no, that isn’t quite… I _did_ know not to think about it...”

Elrohir stepped back and nodded at Aragorn.

_He responds best when we alternate questions,_ Aragorn realised. _And subjects. Very well. I’ll attempt this one last time._

“Why did you surrender, when your master’s plan had worked? You had drawn out the Rangers in open battle, and wounded me. Had you gone back and told the Mouth my name and all else you had learned, he would have been greatly pleased, and you would have been in high favour.”

Halbarad looked down. “I…I could not. Not after remembering…not when I _knew_.”

“Remembering.” Aragorn snorted. “Remember this then: why did you turn traitor? Look at me.”

Halbarad quickly looked up, though he did not quite meet Aragorn’s eyes.

“Well?”

“I…I can’t…” Halbarad started, then fell silent as Aragorn took a step towards him.

“Again, why did you turn traitor?”

Halbarad took a deep breath as he met Aragorn’s gaze. “I… truly…I can’t…” His glance flicked towards Elrohir and the others, and finally settled on Elrond.

Halbarad was breathing rapidly, and he bit at his lower lip before continuing. Along with his distress, to Aragorn it was as if there was a sudden hope in his eyes as well. “Sir…Master Elrond, if…if you see into my thoughts, could you _make_ me remember?”

“No,” Elrond said. “That I cannot,” and as Halbarad’s expression fell, he added, “I cannot force you to remember, but I may be able to help you find your memories yourself.”

Halbarad looked at Elrond imploringly. “Master Elrond, I...would you do that?”


	7. Chapter 7

**3013, April 26**

_Father, are you sure it is wise to go into Halbarad’s thoughts_? Elrohir asked as they returned to their rooms that evening.

_Wise? Most likely not_ , Elrond replied, adding out loud, “I do think I will agree to it, though.”

“Why? Merely because he asked?” Elrohir replied as he poured them both a glass of wine.

“No, but that is a large part of it.”

“Just that?” Elrohir asked. He sat down and looked at his father who was attempting to pace, but had to turn every three steps in the small sitting-room. “Father, it’s not _–_ ”

Elrond sat down abruptly. “–that simple? No, it isn’t. We need his answers. But that he asked is important for his sake too.” _And, little as I wanted to, I’ve begun to care about that. Also, healer’s curiosity – I want to know what is behind his memory loss_.

“I agree.” Elrohir acknowledged his father’s other reasons with a nod. _I counted him a friend once, and if this can give him some peace of mind while helping us…_ “Yet there is danger in it, too. Even if his request is as it appears, there may be traps set within his mind, and you should be wary.”

Elrond raised an eyebrow at him. “I do not doubt his sincerity, though as afraid as he was when he asked, I wouldn’t wonder if he says nay in the morning.”

“Fear can also serve to hide other thoughts, and he would not have to be aware of any traps hidden in his mind,” Elrohir said. _But why am I so set on my doubts?_ He shook his head, not hiding his sadness from Elrond. _I knew him too well before, and I share Estel’s hurt and grief at his betrayal. Also, Elladan should not have done what he did, but I understand_ why _he went that far._

“Truly,” Elrond said, “I _will_ be wary of traps and other dangers. And I do have some questions for him to answer before I will agree to his request.”

Elrohir nodded at the questions Elrond listed. “I also have a condition of my own for you both, even if he answers your questions to your satisfaction. I will be your anchor when you enter his mind.”

**3013, April 27**

A metallic _clang_.

Halbarad sat up, his heart pounding as if it was about to beat its way out of his chest.

The _clang_ had been the door of his cell. Marach was standing in the door opening, with Bregor and the guard on duty behind him.

“Wake up!”

“I am awake.” _Half the night wasted in fretting and I didn’t think I’d sleep at all, and now I’ve overslept._

“Get up. Time to go upstairs,” Marach said.

Halbarad hurried to his feet. His stomach rumbled as he stepped outside the cell.

Bregor gave him a stern look. “You must eat.”

Halbarad shook his head. “I’m not that hungry. I was still sleeping.” His bowl was not in its customary place, instead when he looked up again Bregor held it out to him along with a thick slice of bread. _Did he bring it down himself? And bread? Today’s bread too, by the smell…_

“Then you will eat now,” Bregor said as he handed him the bowl and the bread. When Halbarad hesitated, he added, “You promised Master Elrond you would.”

“So I did – but I’ll hardly starve before I hang.”Halbarad shrugged. _What matters it whether or not I eat? Yet I_ am _grateful for the kindness. Bregor’s a good man, and I wish I could remember him from before._

Halbarad shrugged again and started eating. _I did promise, and even if I hadn’t, the smell of fresh bread would have tempted me. If my standing here spooning up stew with three Rangers guarding me isn’t the most absurd thing to occur in this cell though… Even so, if I think too long about what I asked Master Elrond to do, I will_ _be sick._

~*~

“Halbarad, yesterday you asked me to help you in finding your memories,” Elrond said once Halbarad had been brought back to the interrogation room. “Is that still your wish?”

Halbarad looked down and did not answer at first, but when Estel wanted to speak, Elrond gestured at him to remain silent. _He should not be prompted over this._

“Yes, Master Elrond.” Halbarad had raised his head just enough to meet Elrond’s eyes.

Elrond’s expression turned stern. Halbarad did not look away.

“Before I agree to your request, I have a few questions for you,” Elrond said.

“Yes, Master Elrond.”

“Why do you want to do this?”

“I…beyond all else, I…I owe…” Halbarad glanced at Aragorn before looking at Elrond again. “I should at least be able to tell you _why_ I became a traitor. If I cannot do even that, I should have just fallen on my sword once I remembered my name.”

Elrond too looked at Aragorn to see an unreadable expression pass over his face at Halbarad’s reply. When he turned back to Halbarad, he let a long silence fall before he went on. “I see. My second question is whether you were ever brought before the Enemy himself?”

“No.” Halbarad looked up, then went on with a snort. “Or, I think I’d remember _that._ ” He fell silent, but as Elrond waited, he went on. “But had I gone back to Dur…Durthang, I would likely have been sent to Umbar to make a sacrifice at the altars there, and after that to Barad-dûr.”

“Umbar?” Aragorn spoke. “To make a sacrifice?” He sounded strained, and underneath Elrond heard concern…nay, _fear_ – for Halbarad?

_He’s been there,_ Elrond remembered then. _And he’s seen it done._ _Númenor’s worst sin against my brother’s legacy._ Elrond shook his head in sorrow.

“Was this at your request? Did you want to do this?” Aragorn asked.

Halbarad turned rapidly to meet Aragorn’s gaze, and drew himself up. “Had I wanted it, I would not be here,” he retorted.

“Have you made sacrifice of man or beast at any time?” Aragorn went on, holding Halbarad’s gaze.

“No.” In a near-whisper Halbarad added, “For all that I have become, I have not yet fallen that far.” He did not look away, and after a minute or so Aragorn turned to Elrond and nodded, his relief clear in his eyes.

Not letting his own relief show, Elrond asked Halbarad his final question. “Abilities of the mind are not always predictable, and I may not be able to see your thoughts or to help you find lost memories. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, sir,” Halbarad said.

“Very well. Then there remains just one condition you must agree to.”

“What is it?”

“My son will stand as my anchor while I enter into your thoughts.”

“What does that mean?” Halbarad took a step back and looked at Elrohir warily. “Will he also be in my thoughts?”

“Only at the very edge,” Elrond replied quickly. He hoped he could keep Halbarad from panicking and refusing to open his thoughts. “He will not look deeper, but he will keep me from straying too far from myself.”

Halbarad looked down for some time. “I agree to it,” he eventually said.

“Then,” – Elrond turned to Bregor, who quickly brought up a chair – “Sit down, and we will begin.” Elrohir would not just be his anchor, but he would also tell the others all that he might learn and explain what was going on.

“Look at me,” Elrond said to Halbarad, whose eyes turned dark with fear as he obeyed. “No, wait. Bregor, could you bring my chair over here as well.”

Once Elrond was seated opposite Halbarad, he went on. “Halbarad, you do not have to, but it will help if you can look at me.” _I have to put him at ease as much as I can. If he remains this afraid, I will not be able to see beyond his fear._

Halbarad nodded silently, and though his fear remained almost palpable to Elrond, he also continued to meet his gaze.

“We’ll begin by looking at something that you have already answered.” Elrond extended his thoughts enough that he would ‘hear’ any of Halbarad’s surface thoughts, but he did not yet try to enter deeper into his mind. “Can you take me to how you remembered that you had known Aragorn before?”

“How…should I do anything?” Halbarad asked softly _. “_ Do I just think about something and you can see it? Or…”

_Did not the Mouth enter your thoughts?_ Elrond replied in thought.

“Yes, but he never _asked.”_ Halbarad had sat up straight and he was watching Elrond intently.

_I only want to know how you came to remember Aragorn. You don’t have to think it in words. If you can show me, it will be just as good._

_I’ll try._

The answering thought was barely a whisper, yet Elrond caught it, and he replied by sending Halbarad what amounted to a mental nod of encouragement.

As Elrond slowly, carefully stepped into Halbarad’s thoughts, he caught a flash of an image, so brief that he only saw that it was a room, large, its walls whitewashed, and its ceiling vaulted. Halbarad pushed the image away, leaving Elrond ‘outside’ again.

_Sir? I…I didn’t mean for that to…_

_Do not worry. We’ll try again_ , Elrond said, and once more reached out for Halbarad’s thoughts.

Halbarad sat as still as if he was frozen in place, but his mind skittered away as soon as Elrond’s thoughts touched him.

_Halbarad?_ Elrond asked. _What is it that you fear?_

Halbarad considered his answer for some time, but finally he answered Elrond. _To have my mind overwhelmed_. _I…I know I did once trust you, and I think I do once more, but I…I remember the pain the Mouth can cause in mind. I do not want to resist, but I cannot help it…cannot stop it. And…_ he hesitated long … _when your son, when Elladan, tried to break into my thoughts. You say that what he did was wrong, but I can only think that he was right, that I don’t deserve to be treated well._ Halbarad stopped, but added almost immediately, _and… to show you what I truly am, the beast that I became… I might as well be just another Orc, and to, to let you see that… I know I must, and yet…_ He fell silent and turned away from Elrond, both physically and in mind.

Again, Elrond reached out for Halbarad’s thoughts. _Some among the Elves,_ he told him, _say that Mandos still calls the spirits of Orcs to his realm when they die, that he continues to hope that even one of them might heed that call. Even were you an Orc rather than a Man, I would not turn you away when you have asked for my help._

_I am worse than an Orc! Orcs are vile, but they didn’t choose to be what they are. I did, and I sent Orcs against defenceless villagers. I’ve slain innocents myself, made war upon… I don’t deserve… How can you bear to…?_

Elrond closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Halbarad, when I was but a child my home was destroyed. By Elves. I saw Elves slaughter other Elves. I was raised by those whom I had seen kill neighbours, people I knew. I fought the Enemy for two Ages. I am no stranger to the sight of cruel deeds._ He briefly closed his thoughts to both Halbarad and Elrohir, and shook his head. _Maglor – and to some degree Maedhros – was as much of a father to me as_ _Ë_ _arendil was, and for all the evil they did, I miss them._

_Sir, I…I did not mean…_ Halbarad’s thought faded away into frustrated silence _. Please, if you…can I try again?_

_Try once more to go back to when you first remembered that you had known Aragorn before._ Elrond sounded calmer than he felt. Underneath Halbarad’s fear and shame he sensed the black despair of one who has lostall hope, and knows that he has brought all his doom on himself. _And I doubt I can relieve that darkness. Certainly not in the time we have._ He stifled a sigh and returned his attention to the task at hand.

As Halbarad took a deep breath and declared himself ready, Elrond wondered about the room he had seen. _Better to come back to it later,_ he decided. He needed to set a good starting point for seeing into Halbarad’s mind, and whatever that place was, Halbarad’s reaction to it was too strong to use it as such.

Elrond stepped into Halbarad’s thoughts, and found himself in the woods on a moonlit night.

=~*~=

_His opponent’s face is clear in the light of the moon._ I have seen him before, _he knows._

Halbarad? _the man asks._

I have no name, _he replies as he attacks._

> ~*~
> 
> Caught in the moment by the strength of the memory, Elrond sees Halbarad-in-memory’s cold satisfaction as Aragorn stumbles back, and it takes all his self-control and skill at mindspeech to not let Halbarad feel his revulsion or to dash forward – though he knows he cannot, that this is only memory – to tend Aragorn’s wound.
> 
> Almost immediately, Halbarad’s memory jumps away, and Elrond finds himself in an Orc encampment, the light that of mid-afternoon. Though he feels it at the slight remove of memory, he senses Halbarad’s agitation and sees his thoughts as the Man paces and questions.
> 
> ~*~

He called me Halbarad, but who is he? How did he know me?

_This Halbarad-in-memory is wholly the captain of Orcs, and he_ almost _turns away from the thoughts, the feelings, that have been stirred up by the man who named him._

I should not try to remember such things. It is wrong to even want to.

_He clutches at his head._

What use are memories? They only bring pain.

_Yet he pushes on, and a flood of images of him and Aragorn bursts over Elrond. Then Halbarad’s memory-within-memory darts back again to stabbing Aragorn._

_This time, Elrond is prepared, but Halbarad-in-memory’s horror –_ Aragorn! What have I done? _– as realisation and memory come together still breaks their connection._

=~*~=

Halbarad and Aragorn were staring at each other. Aragorn’s face was grim and drawn as in pain, a white-knuckled hand clenched over his healing wound. Elrohir next to him had a hand on his shoulder, and was speaking to Aragorn in mind. Halbarad looked as stricken as he had been when he had first remembered Aragorn, and though Elrond saw that he wanted to look away, he did not do so until Aragorn sighed and turned to address Elrohir.

Now Halbarad’s gaze was cast firmly down, his thoughts closed. Elrond reached out and put a hand on his arm. After some time he felt the tension in Halbarad’s muscles ease slightly, along with his hold on his thoughts, yet when he extended his own thoughts, Halbarad drew back from the invitation.

_Halbarad_?Elrond tried again, both out loud and in mind.

_I…I should not even be trying to remember any of this,_ Halbarad answered, trying to draw back further.

_Halbarad, I will do you no harm,_ Elrond said. _And what do you mean that you should not remember these things?_

The look Halbarad gave him was wild-eyed, panicked, but he stopped backing away. _Remembering is wrong… NO! That is what the Mouth told me! Please. I want to try again._

Elrond glanced at Elrohir, letting Halbarad be for a moment. _So the Mouth had some involvement in Halbarad’s loss of memory._

Elrohir nodded in agreement, adding, _and he perhaps only remembers the farm raids in detail bec_ _ause he did not return to Durthang afterwards?_

Elrond returned his attention to Halbarad. _Then we will go on,_ he told Halbarad. _Could you try to recall something you think you should know, that you_ want _to remember? It may help if you can think of your mind as a hallway, with doors leading to your memories. To open a locked door, or to clear any obstacle, may then help you to recall what you cannot now remember_.

~*~

Halbarad was relieved that Master Elrond was still willing to help him to bring back the memories he lost. _But the look on Aragorn’s face when I remembered… Yet now, what would I_ want _to remember, what_ should _I know… Perhaps Bregor? I’ve been told I should know him, but I have no memory of him from before. Now, if memory is like a hallway one can walk down…_

The first hallway that came to mind was in Durthang. A dark grey tunnel, hewn out of the living rock and lit by smoky torches. He turned away rapidly. _I know what lies beyond those doors,_ he explained as Master Elrond wondered at his rejection of the vision. _Torture chambers, prison cells, Orc guards. I don’t think I could put other memories behind them._

Places flitted through Halbarad’s thoughts – _a hallway of light grey stone, lit by bright lanterns, its walls punctuated on one side by archery slits; a sunlit hall with high windows, a soft breeze bringing the scent of flowers; a long hall with pale plastered walls, lined with doors on one side, shuttered windows on the other side, oil lamps providing a soft yellow light_ – but he could not hold on to them for long, and he kept being drawn back to the gloomy tunnel-like hallway under Durthang. He raised his hands to his aching head.

_I’m, I’m sorry, Master Elrond, I cannot keep any of them in mind._

_We will use this_ , Elrond said calmly. _Let us walk these halls together_.

Halbarad looked around and saw Master Elrond standing beside him, his eyes gleaming in the low light.

The first few doors they encountered were ajar, and those Halbarad passed by.

_What is behind these doors?_ Master Elrond asked as they went by the third door. He stopped and turned back, leaving Halbarad no other choice than to follow.

Halbarad tried to answer, but at first he could not even speak.

_What is it?_ Master Elrond asked. _Do you fear to learn what these rooms hold?_

_I think I know what they hold already,_ Halbarad replied. _They_ … _please…_

_Show me,_ Master Elrond said. _You will not be ill-treated over any of your memories._

Halbarad shrugged. _But I should be. I don’t deserve your kindness._ Master Elrond’s answering headshake seemed almost sad, and he did not know how to respond to that except to ignore it. He could not so easily ignore the other’s patiently waiting stance, and he reluctantly opened the door further.

_Master Elrond could have opened it himself and just_ taken _the memory,_ he realised. _The Mouth would have._

=~*~=

Fish float belly up in the poisoned pond. Three dogs lie nearby, also dead.

_The farmhouse only has a few outbuildings. The nearest neighbour is twenty miles away. As it grows darker, the house and the yard slowly grow quiet. It will not be long now before the farmer goes out to check on his animals for the last time that day. He will call for the dogs, but it will not matter if they do not respond. As long as there is no alarm, the farmer’s suspicion will not be raised. And with the dogs out of the way, there will be no alarm._

_Finally, the farmer finishes his chores for the day, whistles for the dogs once more and goes back inside._

_He hears the door being barred for the night and climbs down from the tree where he had been watching for most of the afternoon. When he gets back to where the Orcs are waiting, he ignores the agreed signal to warn the sentry and sneaks past. Back in the camp he tells off Baghdonk for standing guard like a blind troll._ It’ll rile up Baghdonk and the others, get them worked up for later.

_Once the Orcs are done mocking Baghdonk, calm returns, and he looks for Ufthag._

_“That was a laugh,” Ufthag mutters. “But just so you know, some of the lads are still restless. You should let them have some sport this time.”_

_“You want to have the Rangers on us with our lads still pulling up their pants? You know our orders. No looting, only take food, and no sport of any kind. Hit them fast and don’t hang about.”_

_“And they don’t like the no looting either,” Ufthag growls. “But you’re the boss.” He stomps off._

_An hour or so later they have surrounded the farm, and fire arrows dipped in some kind of pitch that burns on impact strike the wooden-shingled roof. One fails to catch, but the other three are enough. Soon the inhabitants notice the fire, and the door opens. Someone peeks around it._

_He holds up his hand to tell the Orcs to hold back. After a short wait two young men with buckets rush out towards the well in the farmyard._

_The Orcs wait and do not shoot until he gives the signal. The two fall less than five yards from the open door. In the low light the spilled water looks like pools of blood._

_Shutters on windows slam shut._

_He signals Khûlthaz to put a fire arrow through the one window where the shutters have not been closed yet._ We could wait until the fires we already set drive them outside, but the lads will like it better if I give them a bit of a fight sooner. Ufthag is a two-faced rat, but he’s also right. They _are_ getting restless. _There is a flare-up of light inside the house as the flames catch and immediately die down again._

_In reply a crossbow bolt comes through the broken window, and behind him there is a squeal as one of his Orcs is hit._

_“Keep the bloody noise down,” he growls without turning his head._

=~*~=

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, not caring that tears ran down his face. _I don’t need to see it before me again._ The roof of the building had collapsed much faster than he had expected. _I know how it went. Screaming, the stench of burning flesh. All too easy to remember._

The clatter of a chair falling over.

Halbarad looked up.

“Their deaths are on you, traitor! How dare you cry?” Marach was held back by Elrohir.

“Marach, control yourself!” That was Aragorn.

Halbarad did not know whether to keep watching or to look away. _I can’t say anything, but I deserve whatever he wants to do to me._

Aragorn and Elrohir now stood together talking to Marach. Eventually, after a long, angry look at Halbarad, Marach nodded at Aragorn and said something before sitting down again.

Halbarad looked away, and continued to do so even when Master Elrond spoke his name.

_Halbarad! Look at me._

He dared not ignore Master Elrond’s command a second time and slowly met his gaze. _Now tell me I shouldn’t be ill-treated over my memories of what I did!_

Master Elrond said nothing, but he continued to hold Halbarad’s gaze.

_And in with the horror and disgust I expect, …pity? Master Elrond, please… I don’t deserve pity. Or kindness. If I could undo any of what I did... But I cannot, and all that is left to me is atonement, punishment._ Halbarad turned away again when the thought of the rope crept unbidden into his mind and hoped the other was not watching him closely enough to see it. _Two days…_ Halbarad took a deep breath and turned back to meet Master Elrond’s now stern gaze. _Well…_ he said when Elrond said nothing, _since you want me to go on, I was going to try to remember Bregor… I must have patrolled with him before the Hollin patrol, but how do I make myself remember him? I did it when I remembered the Captain – but if I have to retrieve every memory like that?_ He gestured at the locked doors along the hallway. _I don’t know which door to open._

_The doors are really only a symbol of your memories,_ Master Elrond said. _It need not matter which one you choose. Also, it’s usually easier to go from recent memories to older ones._

_So I should start with this morning?_ Halbarad aimed a desultory kick at the door they were standing in front of. _Then what? The Orc attack I don’t remember or something else that I don’t even know I don’t remember?_ He turned and walked on, trying to control his frustration. _Why is this so hard!_

An image of Bregor taking him up the stairs from his cell flashed by as he walked on down the hallway. It was as if he was walking into a thick fog, even if the air felt dry rather than clammy. His headache flared as the walls fell away into grey emptiness. Halbarad stopped. _I think this is a dead end,_ he said, and wondered at how his voice – or rather his thought – felt as muted as if the fog were real. He knew Elrond was standing beside him – though he also knew that his presence was not _real_ – and now for the first time he was also aware of Elrohir somewhere far behind them. The other two were talking to each other, but it was as if they were in another room and he could only hear voices, not what they said. He tried to ignore the distraction.

_I’ve heard Bregor and Aragorn talk about the ambush. Not that any of it sounded familiar, but it may help..._ He tried to _see_ what he had heard, but the images looked faint, washed out, and almost immediately faded back into nothing.

_Master Elrond? What should I…_ But the other was no longer there and as he noticed, he heard his name being called. He backed out of the non-place, the non-memory, and found himself in the interrogation room, clutching at his head.

“Do not yet try to remember the Orc ambush,” Master Elrond said. “We will look at that later.”

“Yes, sir,” Halbarad replied. _What happened there? Why can’t I… but maybe Master Elrond can find out? But, wait…_ “Bregor? When did you lose the eye?” he asked.

“Seven years ago,” Bregor replied after a quick look at Master Elrond. “Why? Did you remember something about me?”

Halbarad shook his head. “No. I don’t think so, except… before you lost the eye… were you an archer?”

Bregor nodded. “Yes, I was.”

~*~

“Master Elrond, we do want to know what happened during the ambush, but should you not try to find out first how much he betrayed?” Borlas asked Elrond, with Marach nodding in agreement.

“I will come to that,” Elrond said. “But not today. I’ll attempt one more question and we’ll go on tomorrow.” _He tries to hide it, but Halbarad is starting to falter. He cannot endure much more today. Perhaps I’ll ask about the image of that room that intruded before. From how strongly he reacted to it, it has to be important, and I doubt we’ll get much further while that is in the way._

“You know all we need to find out, but I’ll let you take it as you think best,” Aragorn said.

Elrond did not need to see Aragorn’s thoughts to hear ‘not that you’d do otherwise,’ and he gave him a wry glance in acknowledgement.

“Halbarad, can you take me back to that room you thought of at the start?” Elrond asked next.

“If that is what you want, sir, yes,” Halbarad answered.

“It is,” Elrond confirmed.

Again, Elrond found himself in darkness, until slowly the vaulted room with whitewashed stone walls appeared around him. The image wavered a few times before Halbarad could hold it in his thoughts.

The torches that lit the room threw heavy shadows, and from those shadows a man emerged. Had he been dressed as a Ranger he would not have appeared out of place in the North, but then Elrond noticed that even at the distance lent by memory, Halbarad had tensed up again in… not just fear, but anticipation of pain? Pain that was worse than the headache Halbarad already had.

And beyond that fear, he noted, compared to Halbarad-in-memory as captain of an Orc troop, here Halbarad-in-memory was muted, barely there…

Elrond prepared to look deeper, but the image of the whitewashed room disappeared abruptly, and he was left, briefly disoriented, in the interrogation room, as Halbarad blinked and raised his head to meet his gaze.

“That man, the one in the room,” Elrond asked, forestalling an apology from Halbarad for failing to hold the memory, “was that the Mouth?”

“Yes, Master Elrond,” Halbarad said.

“What can you tell us about him?” Aragorn asked after Elrond nodded at him to go ahead. “Is it true that he is of Númenorean blood?”

“He has the look,” Halbarad said, “but I don’t…”

“How old is he?” Aragorn went on.

Halbarad hesitated before he answered, “I don’t know,” then added rapidly at Aragorn’s angry look, “Not like, like that, sir – _No_ _one_ knows. He looks to be of middle age, somewhere between sixty and a hundred. There is only a little grey in his hair.”

“What else?” Aragorn asked. “What is his real name?”

“I’ve never heard it. I don’t think anyone knows.”

“His speech?” Elrohir was next. “Does he have some kind of recognisable accent?”

“He uses many old-fashioned words in Westron,” Halbarad said, “as it is said they do in Umbar, but he speaks like any southerner otherwise. I’ve once heard him read out a text in Quenya, and he sounded uncertain, as if he can read it, but has never learned to speak it – he had no particular accent, though he seemed …disgusted by it. Black Speech: he speaks the true form, but also knows and uses several Orcish dialects.”

“And his powers?” Elrohir said.

“He can see into others’ minds, and…” Halbarad looked into an unseen distance. A line of pain, burning across his back, a touch – _remember this_! – on his mind _._ “He can …suggest things…pain…”

Elrond still feltHalbarad’s fear despite the distance he had kept while Aragorn and Elrohir asked their questions. “Does he have any jewellery, no matter how plain or unremarkable, that he always has on him? Perhaps a ring or a pendant?”

_Father, do you really think…?_ Elrohir.

_It is unlikely, yet Annatar made many lesser Rings before he attempted even the Seven and the Nine. And a Black Númenorean, if that is what the Mouth is, would have gladly accepted one._

Elrond stepped slightly further into Halbarad’s thoughts, enough that he would be able to see the truth of his answer.

“I don’t think so, or at least it is nothing I’ve seen,” Halbarad replied. “He cares little for such things. Even his signet ring he is careless with.”

“I see,” Elrond said. Inconclusive as the answer was, Halbarad had spoken what he believed to be the truth. “And now, I think, it is time to stop for today. This is hard work for one unaccustomed to speaking in thought.”

Elrond turned to Bregor when Halbarad did not protest that he could go on. _And that surely confirms that I am right_. “Bregor, will you take him back to his cell? Oh, and make sure again that he eats.” _Elrohir, when Bregor brings him his food, would you go along and let him have some miruvor?_

~*~

Halbarad lay down on his pallet and closed his eyes as soon as Bregor and Marach had left. _I feel as if I’ve been running with a full pack all day, even if I’ve done no more than sit in a chair_.

He jolted awake to find Bregor back in the guardroom, along with Elrohir, both watching him. He hastily got up and took the few steps to the door. As in the morning, Bregor had his bowl of stew with him, again along with some bread, and he held both out for Halbarad to take through the gap in the bars.

Halbarad quickly emptied the bowl and wiped the bread along the bottom to clean it out, all the while keeping a wary eye on Elrohir. _Why is he here?_

Elrohir watched him right back, but remained silent until Halbarad had finished eating.

“How are you feeling?”

“Weary,” Halbarad reluctantly admitted. _And my headache hasn’t cleared._

“Then have some miruvor to perk you up.” Elrohir held out a flask.

At first, Halbarad could only stare at him. “Why?” he finally managed.

“There is another day of questioning tomorrow, and father thought you might have need of it.”

“Then please thank him on my behalf,” Halbarad said as Elrohir poured a measure into his water cup.

The exchange had felt more than a bit unreal, and Halbarad stood looking after the two for some time after they left. Eventually he returned to his pallet and sat down again, putting the cup down for a moment. _I remember miruvor_. _Though I don’t think I’d still know the taste of it. And yet more undeserved kindness shown me._ At that thought he nearly poured the liquid out on the floor. _But no, if it gives me the strength to get through another day of questioning, especially if Master Elrond wants to look into my thoughts again…_

He took a hesitant sip of the fragrant liquor. It burned slightly on his tongue, but that soon turned into a warm glow and he quickly took another sip as he felt the worst weight of his weariness lift, along with his headache. His mood remained dark though – _and if memory doesn’t play me false, it should have lightened._ He sighed and shook his head. _I’ll be glad if this does lend me the strength to make it through the day. Ease of heart would be more than I deserve._

_But_ …

=~*~=

_“Will this snow ever cease?” Aragorn asks Elladan and shivers as he attempts to shake out his cloak that is almost white from the snow clinging to it._

_“I’m sure it will,” the Half-elf says. “But it could be another few days. We need to find shelter.”_

_Halbarad merely shivers and pulls his own cloak tighter around him._ That will be covered in snow again within minutes. I’d rather hang on to what warmth there still is underneath than remove a few flakes.

_It is another hour before they find shelter of a kind behind a tall outcropping of rock. As the three huddle against each other, relieved to be out of the piercing wind, Elladan reaches for a small leather flask on his belt and hands it to Aragorn first._

_Aragorn drinks eagerly and hands it on to Halbarad. “Here, this’ll warm you up a bit. It’s miruvor.”_

=~*~=

… _I wish I didn’t remember_ , he thought as he shifted to lie down and perhaps sleep. _To feel, even in memory, the friendships I betrayed along with my oaths, and still not know why I did so_ …


	8. Chapter 8

**3013, April 27**

Aragorn had slept for an hour or so before he rejoined the others to go over the day’s events, but his weariness went bone-deep and he would need proper rest to feel better. _And there’s little chance of that any time soon._ _My wound’s healing takes too much of my strength and this trial takes what is left. We are finding out more about Halbarad’s memories now, though not yet as much as I’d hoped. But until Halbarad tells me why he betrayed me, this cannot be truly over. And what do I do if by the end of tomorrow that question remains unanswered? Delay the trial? I don’t know…_

“Master Elrond, it’s a pity you couldn’t find out more about the ambush in Eregion,” Bregor said just as Aragorn walked in to the room.

“Does he truly not remember it?” Borlas asked.

“No,” Elrond said. “He has no memory of it as far as I can see.”

“But for what reason would he lie about _any_ of it?” Bregor asked. “He does not deny his guilt.”

“To keep what we need to know from us. Create doubt. Delay us, distract us. Are we not here instead of at Mount Gram?” Marach said. “Did he betray anything important to the Enemy or not? He says he didn’t, that he already didn’t remember these things, but no man turns traitor without selling all he knows.”

“Even if we cannot find out why, I’ve come to think that he may not have betrayed as much as we thought,” Borlas said. “Had he betrayed all that we first feared, we would have faced more than three hundred Orcs, and sooner than this year.”

“We can only hope you’re right,” Marach said, with Elrond nodding in pensive agreement. Next Marach turned to Aragorn. “Yet he may just be bold enough to try to gain sympathy through the memory loss and so escape his fate.”

“I am not that easily swayed,” Aragorn said sharply.

“It might still be something he would try,” Marach replied.

“I’ve come to doubt that,” Bregor said. He looked at Aragorn as if he wanted to say more.

“What is it?” Aragorn asked.

“Were it his intent to escape his fate by lying about his memory, it’d almost be proof in itself that he doesn’t remember you,” Bregor said with a brief smile. “But that’s not what I wanted to say, or at least not all.”

“Well, what?” Marach interrupted impatiently. “If it’s of use, speak.”

“Marach, give him the chance then.” For all that Aragorn understood Marach’s mood after the afternoon’s findings, taking it out on Bregor was pointless.

“I’m not sure it will be of use,” Bregor said with a sharp look at Marach, “but since seeing that scar on Halbarad’s leg yesterday, I’ve been doing some thinking. I’ve said before that I didn’t see from close by what happened to Halbarad during the ambush, yet the scar does match what I saw of when he stumbled and of the angle of the Orc’s blade coming down.”

Aragorn looked at Bregor but did not say anything. A small spark of hope stirred in him – _he did not set out to betray me!_

“Are you certain of that?” Elrond asked.

“Not fully,” Bregor admitted. “I didn’t _see_ him take the wound, but what I did see makes it likely.”

“If that is indeed where he gained it, the attack may not have been a feint to pull out their traitor,” Aragorn finally said as he looked at Bregor, who nodded slowly in agreement. “Not that Orcs wouldn’t go against their orders and strike to kill rather than to deceive, but between this and him telling me to leave the patrol and go as soon as we realised that we were being hunted…”

“But why then would the Orcs want to make it look as if _three_ Rangers had died in the attack, rather than two?” Borlas asked.

“What if he was at first taken captive, and turned traitor only later?” Bregor glanced at Aragorn. “Any Orc captain knows that with even the smallest hope that one of ours might still be alive, they would be pursued until that hope had to be abandoned. It does seem overly complicated as a ploy to deceive, though.” Bregor paused, then added, “Hopefully Master Elrond can get to the bottom of it.”

_I had already gone into the mountains by then,_ Aragorn thought, _and I didn’t see the terrain until all tracks had been long lost – and how I wept when I believed I stood at his grave years later. But Bregor is observant and not given to wild speculation. If he’s right, it changes much about what we think happened. Oh, Halbarad, did you knowingly lead us into a trap or were you captured by chance? And if you were, what did it take to break you?_

With a shudder he turned to Elrond. “If you need more time, I could set the trial date back.” _I’d rather not, as much as I want to find out all that we can, but if more time is all that is needed…_

“That won’t be necessary,” Elrond said.

Marach snorted. “I already know all I need to make my judgement.”

“Do you?” Elrohir asked. “Truly?”

“Yes. He denies nothing of what he stands accused of, not even the things he says he can’t remember,” Marach replied.

_I thought as Marach does,_ Aragorn thought. _Now I envy him his certainty._ _I no longer know what to think of any of it. If I ever did of course. I believed my only danger was to be too harsh or too lenient in my judgement. Now I cannot even know what the truth is any more. Truly, my hope is on what Father can find out tomorrow. And then? Will there be peace of mind in knowing, for Halbarad, for the kin of those who died because of him? For me?_ __

**3013, April 28**

_I know I slept this night_ , Halbarad thought as he woke up, _and I don’t think I dreamt – if I did I don’t remember it – yet I still feel so tired. But it’s a relief this is the last day of questioning. Then tomorrow the trial, and after that it’ll be over_. He swallowed to keep down the lead weight of fear that clenched up his stomach at the thought. _I don’t much look forward to the hanging, but it’ll be done quickly enough, and I deserve much worse. And death itself, that_ is _what I deserve_. He leant back against the wall, trying to collect himself again. It should not be long until Marach and Bregor came to take him upstairs.

_Ah, there!_ The door to the guardroom opened and Bregor came in, followed by … _Aragorn?_ Halbarad quickly rose and walked towards the cell door. _I’m not surprised Marach doesn’t want to do this after yesterday, but…_

Aragorn’s gaze on him was not quite as harsh as it had been the previous days, but rather _searching_. Even so, it was hard to meet his eyes, but Halbarad forced himself to do so for as long as he could bear it. _It feels as if he sees right through me. What does he look to find? What does he see?_

Finally, Aragorn nodded, releasing Halbarad from his gaze, and Bregor stepped up with his bowl of stew.

Halbarad took the bowl when a thought struck him. _What about Halmir? For what track of time I’ve managed to keep, there might be news from Mount Gram already, though if there is, would I even be told_? He shook his head and started eating.

“What is it?” Aragorn asked.

“Sir?”

“You thought of something and dismissed it. What was it?”

_He still knows me too well._ Halbarad took a deep breath and looked at Aragorn. “Sir? Is there news from Mount Gram yet?”

“Why?”

“Halmir, sir. He…he _did_ go there?”

Halbarad could not have looked away from Aragorn’s stern gaze had he wanted to, but after some time Aragorn’s expression softened slightly and he replied. “He did, he insisted on it. It is too soon though for news. I doubt the attack has begun yet.”

Halbarad was about to thank Aragorn for telling him when Aragorn went on, his expression softening even further. “Halmir’s a first-rate Ranger, and in no more danger than any of the men out there.”

_Yet the death of any man who falls there will be on me, whether or not they are my kin. And I'll be dead before there is news of Halmir._ Halbarad looked down, trying to stifle his sudden sense of dread, when Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up again in surprise.

“Halbarad, I do care for the lad, and he'll do well enough out there.” Aragorn looked solemn as he spoke. “I swear that no ill will come to Dineth or your sons over aught that was done by you.”

~*~

Entering Halbarad’s thoughts went smoothly this morning. Elrond could see he was still weary after the previous day’s work, but then he was feeling the strain himself as well. To Halbarad Elrond said, _I wish to know more about your first encounters with the Mouth_.

_I’ll try, sir,_ Halbarad replied. He stood in thought for a moment, then looked up and nodded. _This way_ , he added as he led Elrond towards a side corridor that had appeared. Elrond noted that it had grown darker, but he followed Halbarad without comment.

_Ugh, cobwebs_! Halbarad exclaimed after they had gone in a few yards _. Are there spiders in here?_

_Only if you imagine them_ , Elrond said, adding in a dry tone _, I suggest you do not_. After a short while, as the corridor grew even darker, he said, _A lantern would not go amiss, though._

Halbarad looked at him in confusion, but a lantern sprang into existence in his hand, and a hesitant light fell on the walls around them.

_What is this_? Elrond asked, pointing out a patch of wall where the plaster had been applied roughly over uneven brickwork.

_Just a bit of wall_ , Halbarad replied.

_It looks as if something – a door? – has been bricked up_. Elrond stepped forward to lay a hand on the uneven section of wall. It felt like an ordinary plastered wall, down to the slightly grainy roughness under his fingers. Halbarad stared at the wall for a while, then stepped forward too, and started to outline the stones that made up the section.                                                        

_I didn’t know that was here, but if all this_ – he gestured at the corridor around them – _is an image of my mind, of my memories, would this wall not hide something I wanted to forget_? Halbarad asked, sounding uncertain _._

_It might_ , Elrond answered _. And if you wish, you can turn back at any time. But what is behind it may also be something that – even without doing so knowingly – you wanted to keep safe from others. It could be the memories of the Mouth we’re looking for, or it may be something unexpected_ _you’d be pleased to find again_.

_The memories I found after I remembered Aragorn were also behind a wall_. Halbarad sounded pensive _. I’ll go on, but how? It’s not a door I can open or unlock_. He turned towards the wall again.

_You can try to think it away. Imagine that it isn’t there or try to make it crumble to dust when you touch it_. Elrond held up a hand as Halbarad wanted to interrupt. _Within your own thoughts, you are in control. Or you should be._

_I think I understand_ , Halbarad replied slowly, though his expression showed some doubt. He stared at the bricked-up area for a long time, until he moved forward and touched it. Elrond could feel the effort Halbarad was expending, but at first nothing happened.

After a short time – or what felt as a short time to Elrond – Halbarad took a deep breath and as he exhaled, the plaster and bricks crumbled into dirt.

Behind the bricks lay yet another wall, this one made of tightly-fitted dark grey stone.

Halbarad muttered a curse. _I…I…That is not mine_. He reached out to touch the stones, but Elrond stopped him.

_Careful, it may be dangerous to touch them_ , he warned. He did extend his own hand but did not quite touch the stones. There was a coldness coming from – or through? – the new wall that set him on edge. _Now, if this wall isn’t yours, and it doesn’t feel as if it is, someone else put it there_. Elrond felt certain he could name the one who had, but he held back. It was for Halbarad to put a name to him.

_Was it the Mouth_? Halbarad asked.

_That is likely_ , Elrond confirmed.

_How do I get through it_? Halbarad asked next.

At first the movement was so slight Elrond could not be sure of what he saw, but slowly the edges of the white plaster – and the bricks under it – started to flow back over the darker stone.

Elrond glanced at Halbarad.

_That…that isn’t me… It’s not me doing that_. Halbarad sounded afraid, though Elrond was uncertain whether the fear was over what was happening, or over how he might react.

As the plaster continued to move, it pushed under Elrond’s hand, and he was left with his hand on a patch of plaster that had been applied roughly over uneven brickwork.

Halbarad shrugged. _It’s just a bit of wall. There’s nothing there_.

_There is_ , Elrond said. _Halbarad! Do you not remember_?

_Yes, of course_ , Halbarad answered _. We entered this corridor, and then we found a blank wall. There’s nothing here_. He clutched at his head with his right hand.

Elrond put his hand on Halbarad’s shoulder. _Try to think away the wall_.

_It’s just a wall_ , Halbarad repeated, but he stepped towards the wall again even so.

Far behind them, Elrond could feel Elrohir’s presence on the edge of Halbarad’s mind.

_Father, be careful_ , Elrohir reminded him.

_I am careful_ , Elrond replied.

_Try it_ , Elrond said again to Halbarad, and Halbarad placed his hand on the plaster.

The plaster and bricks crumbled into dirt.

_That is not mine_ , Halbarad said as a second wall of dark grey stone emerged from behind the bricks. He reached out to touch the stones.

Elrond wondered whether he should stop him, but on an impulse,  he placed his own hand next to Halbarad’s instead.

The stones were slightly cold to the touch, and slick as if with oil, though they did not gleam at all.

_—there is nothing here—go back, forget, go, you weren’t here—nothing to remember, nothing to forget—_

_Halbarad_! Elrond said sharply as he saw the plaster start to edge back over the stones again _. Remember, what you see is not real. These halls are not your mind, they are only an image_. Halbarad looked at him, his hand still touching the stone _. There is no wall of stone within your thoughts, only a wall of words. Words that want to keep you from your memories_.

Halbarad looked at him a bit longer, but then abruptly turned towards the grey wall, and for the first time since the interrogations started, Elrond felt anger in him. The feeling quickly subsided into one of hopelessness, just as Elrohir asked Elrond what was happening.

_Nothing much,_ Elrond replied _. For now, at least._

He quickly turned back to Halbarad, who was leaning against the opposite wall for support, looking both dejected and determined. The plaster had stopped moving, but Elrond could still hear the grey stones whisper to Halbarad.

_I must get through that wall,_ Halbarad said _._

_Perhaps you can_ , Elrond answered, adding at Halbarad’s anxious look _,_ _since as you say you also broke through the wall that kept memory of Aragorn from you_. He did not mention his suspicion that _that_ wall had been made by Halbarad himself. _As to who made this one…_

_I don’t care if it’s hard to get through,_ Halbarad said _. I must._

_No_ , Elrond said _,_ laying his free hand on Halbarad’s shoulder _. We_.

_What do you mean?_ Halbarad asked _. Sir._

_The wall – the spell – was put there to keep you from your own memories, but its maker probably did not think it would have to keep others out._

_Then what should I do_? Halbarad asked after some consideration _. What should I do? I want it_ gone _._

_First, try to remove it the same way you did with the brick wall_. As Elrond expected, nothing happened.

_Now we try it again together,_ Elrond said, and as soon as Halbarad began his next attempt, he told him _Now!_ and added his own strength to Halbarad’s.

Startled into action, Halbarad did not just direct his thoughts against the wall, but he also gave it a hard shove. Almost immediately he lurched back and collapsed clutching at his head.

Elrond felt the backlash also – _I am unhurt_ , he quickly reassured his son – but it hit him not nearly as badly as Halbarad, and his headache cleared away within a few moments. Halbarad had not yet recovered, sitting with his head bowed down, his arms wrapped around his knees.

~*~

_I wish I could do more than to just sit here and wait._ Aragorn badly wanted to get up and pace, but with seven of them in the room as well as the extra chairs that had been brought in, the room was too full to let him. He briefly wished that he could have gone along with Elrond into Halbarad’s thoughts. _On the other hand, it’s better that Father does this by himself – I am too closely involved, nor would I have the patience for it. And Halbarad seems to be able to open up to Elrond more than he can or will to me._

_Father, come back_!

Aragorn looked around, startled. _Elrohir_! Halbarad was sitting hunched over with his head in his hands and Elrond quickly crouched down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

As Halbarad raised his head, Aragorn caught a flash of bright red.

“Bregor, send for some clean rags and hot water,” Aragorn said before either Elrond or Elrohir spoke.

It didn’t take long for the requested items to be brought in by one of Bregor’s men, and while Elrond tended Halbarad’s nosebleed, Elrohir told them in more detail than he had before about the wall within Halbarad’s thoughts.

~*~

“I… Sir, I want to try again,” Halbarad said as soon as Elrond was done.

“Not in this way,” Elrond said. “Even if I can break through that wall by force, I fear it would kill you.”

“I’m bound for death anyway, and I’d die with my thoughts my own.” Halbarad sounded more heated than Aragorn had heard him since his capture. “I want that wall gone.”

“If you want to learn what is behind the wall, I still have other ideas to try.” Elrond turned to look at him. “Do you just want it gone or do you want to find out what is behind it?”

“Both,” Halbarad admitted softly.

“Then trust me.” Elrond went on after Halbarad nodded. “From what I saw, the wall is set only to ward against you, against your own thoughts. Perhaps if I can examine it when you are in a light sleep, I can find a way to get past it.”

“Asleep?” Halbarad looked reluctant. “If it is the only way?” He looked down, his expression blank now.

“Is there much point in going on with this?” Marach asked. “Apart from what Master Elrond found out about the Mouth yesterday, we’ve learned little of importance.”

“If the Mouth thought it important enough to put such a wall in anyone’s mind, we should let Master Elrond try again to break it,” Borlas said, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I agree,” Aragorn said. “If you think there’s anything to be gained from trying again, Father.”

“I too agree,” Elrohir added.

“Very well,” Elrond said, after another glance at Halbarad. “I’ll need a quiet room where Halbarad can lie down. Bregor?”

“Would one of the guestrooms do?” the seneschal asked.

“Then I’ll use my own quarters. Can you have a light midday meal for us two brought there?” Elrond added.

“Consider it done,” Bregor said as he left.

“Aragorn, do you have any fresh athelas at hand?” Elrond asked next.

“Only dried, but it can be found in the hills nearby as well.” Aragorn looked at Elrohir. “You know where it grows.”

Elrohir stood up. “I’ll go and pick some. I should be back within an hour or so.”

~*~

“Maybe I should wait to ask until Elrohir is back,” Borlas said as they returned to the other room they had used before, “but I’d like to know some more about mind speech.”

“So would I,” Marach said. “Can any Elf see your thoughts?”

“I’ll see if I can answer your questions,” Aragorn said. “But no, Elves cannot see all your thoughts.” _Though sometimes it did seem that way to a young lad growing up under Elrond’s watchful eye._ “The theory of it is set out in a work on language by Pengolodh of Gondolin. He talks about _ó_ _sanwe-kenta_ or the communication of thought. I’ll spare you his speculations on the Valar, but according to him both Men and Elves are capable of mind speech, though each according to their own degree.”

“I’d never given that much thought to it,” Borlas said. “I’ve seen Elrohir and Elladan talk in mind together, but I’d always just put that down to them being twins. I’ve two great-aunts who are twins, and they’re always finishing each other’s sentences, or working together without speaking.”

“But surely not all Men can do it?” Marach asked. “Can you, Captain?”

“All Men have the ability to some degree, no matter how small, and yes, I know how,” Aragorn said, “though I use it mostly with Master Elrond or my brothers, but that may be more their doing than mine.” It did not feel right to mention the _awareness_ he and Arwen had between them, or, now that he thought about it, the wordless understanding there had once been between him and Halbarad – as between brothers close as twins.

Not long after, Elrohir returned, and after he had taken the athelas he had found to Elrond, he rejoined them.

“Do you not need to help Father?” Aragorn asked him.

“He says not,” Elrohir replied. “Except to stand as anchor, and I do not need to be by his side to do that.”

“Elrohir,” Bregor said, “before, you said that there are rules in mind speech, such as not entering another’s thoughts unbidden.”

“That is so,” Elrohir said, “though that is more than a rule. It is not possible to enter someone’s thoughts when his will is set against it, unless the will be broken or deceived. And to do so is considered an evil in itself, no matter who is involved.”

Aragorn wondered at the brief shadow that passed over Elrohir’s face at the explanation, but decided he would pursue it later, if there was an opportunity for them to speak alone.

Bregor merely nodded at the explanation, then asked, “But if mind speech is much like normal speech, how will it help if Halbarad is sleeping?”

“What Father has in mind is a very light sleep. Much like when one is close enough to waking up to be aware of being asleep, but unwilling to wake fully. Father hopes that he can study the wall better and maybe find a way around or through the spell, if the spell isn’t trying to respond to Halbarad.”

“We can but hope it works, then,” Bregor said. “Is there anything we can do in the meantime other than wait for what Master Elrond might learn?”

Elrohir shook his head in denial, and Bregor came over and sat down next to Aragorn.

“My lord,” he said softly, “tomorrow, after the verdict...” Bregor looked as unhappy as Aragorn felt, and the seneschal waited long before he went on. “It is my task to make the arrangements for carrying out the sentence, but I need to know your wishes first. That… Captain, should I put up the gallows in the town, or within the Keep?”

_How I wish it hadn’t come to this!_ Aragorn gritted his teeth in silent grief. _Yet I still see the good man I once knew, the brother I loved, despite the evil he has done. Though I have to slay him, I’ll not dishonour him in death._ “Neither. His death shall not be a public spectacle, much as it would please the Council to have him executed in the town. Prepare one of the Keep’s inner courtyards for an execution by the sword. Room for witnesses only. After, he is to be buried with his kin.” __

“I will see to it,” Bregor said, looking sadly at Aragorn as he left.

Borlas and Marach were still talking about mind speech with Elrohir. Aragorn did not feel like taking part in the discussion, but sitting and listening would help to keep his mind off the following day. _Since we can but wait until Elrond tells us what he has found in Halbarad’s thoughts, this is better than losing myself in memories of Halbarad as he was._

“And that wall you said Halbarad put in front of the wall made by the Mouth. Why would he do that, hide it I mean?” Borlas asked Elrohir.

“Do you remember what Halbarad said about when he first remembered Aragorn, that he had been told that he shouldn’t try to remember things? Perhaps that wall came of that?” Elrohir replied.

“You mean that he put his own wall in front of the other one, to forget it was there?” Borlas replied. “So, what you told us how all the walls and hallways and doors are only to help imagining thought and memory, it does work like that to use those images in your mind?”

“It does work like that,” Elrohir said. “Some use other images, such as a cave, a house, or a maze, but it matters not what the image is, so long as it is true for the one thinking it.” He grinned wryly. “I do use the hallway images myself when thinking about the mind, and I’ve split enough Orc skulls to know what the inside of a head looks like.”

Borlas laughed. “There’s many a man who can say that. Yet I’ve never seen a thought in a pile of brains.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be looking for thoughts in Orc heads,” Marach said. “Although they’re more than crafty enough when it comes to war and battle, alas.”

Aragorn found himself slowly nodding off as he listened, and after finding a more comfortable position so he would not wake up with a crick in his neck, he let himself drift off to sleep.

He eventually woke up to Elrohir quietly speaking his name. “Wake up,” Elrohir added as soon as he stirred.

“How long did I sleep?” Aragorn asked. _I’d guess several hours_.

“Quite some time,” Elrohir said. “It’s only about an hour to sunset.”

Aragorn rubbed at his eyes. “I feel better for the rest though. Have you heard anything from Father yet?”

“Yes, I did,” Elrohir said. “He’ll at least need the rest of the evening, and we should not wait up for his findings.”

“There will be time to hear what Master Elrond has found in the morning before the trial begins,” Marach said.

“Then we should probably call it a day,” Borlas added, giving Aragorn a considering look. “There’s no point in going over everything else again tonight, and we’ll all be better for some fresh air and some rest, not just you, Captain.”

~*~

“Care to join me for a walk?” Elrohir asked once Aragorn had eaten a few bites. “It’ll do you good. Unless you have had any trouble from your wound today?”

“None,” Aragorn said. “It feels tender if I probe it, but nothing more.”

“Then exercise and fresh air will do you good,” Elrohir said. “Come along.”

Aragorn had let Elrohir lead the way, and they were now some small distance outside the Westgate when Elrohir directed them to the side of the road to sit down on a rock.

“You do need to rest,” Elrohir said, but he smiled as he spoke, and Aragorn had to admit he was glad of the break.

“Look, the first stars are already starting to come out,” Aragorn said as he turned his gaze up towards the darkening sky.

“Only a few. And I won’t let you stay out until it’s fully dark yet, even if you are recovering well.”

“Yes, Mother,” Aragorn muttered, even as he knew that Elrohir was right.

“You need your rest. You have a hard day ahead tomorrow,” Elrohir said, giving him a sharp look. “And I know how much Halbarad meant – means – to you…”

Aragorn allowed himself a sigh before meeting Elrohir’s keen gaze. “It’s easier perhaps for Marach and Borlas. Marach only cares about justice for Daeron and for the farmers who were killed by Halbarad and his Orcs. Borlas… he and Halbarad worked together well in the Grey Company, but they were never friends. When I look at him, I cannot help but remember the friend I fought side by side with, the brother I trusted with my life. Yet we both know what he did. I’ve felt it myself.” Reluctantly, Aragorn’s hand moved over his wound. “If I think too much about the good man I knew before he was captured and turned traitor, or about all he meant to me…”

As he fell silent, Elrohir put a hand on his shoulder. “I know,” he said. “And I do not envy you this, for I too once counted him a friend.”

Aragorn looked down. “I know what I have to do, yet how I will bring myself to condemn him and carry out the sentence...”

“You will do what is right. You will do what you have to do,” Elrohir said softly.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Aragorn replied.


	9. Chapter 9

**3013, April 29**

Halbarad groaned softly and clutched at his head. He rubbed at his temples, but his headache refused to go down. _Well, I slept thanks to Master Elrond, even if it wasn’t more than a few hours at most. Sending me to sleep was yet another kindness I don’t deserve, but I still feel as if I’ve overindulged at the Pony. And I wish the Prancing Pony was the only thing I remember that I couldn’t before._

He shook his head as his stomach grumbled in hunger. _What time is it? Bregor said the fourth hour for the trial to begin, and it feels earlier than that. But Bregor or someone else if he’s busy, should be along soon_.

“So, your last morning down here, huh, traitor?” The guard had noticed he was awake. “Can’t wait to see your head roll, you murderous filth.” He spat on the ground.

Had Halbarad been sitting up, he would have shrugged. Even without the gleeful reminder, he knew he had spent his last night in his cell. _And now I can’t help wondering how often the guards spat in my food, though it’s probably better not to think about it_. _Half the time I didn’t eat anyway. And… my head?_ He snorted inwardly. _I can’t believe I’d be granted an honourable death. But I’ll find out soon enough._

He sat up and leant back against the wall, hoping that closing his eyes might relieve his aching head. Instead it brought images – too many, too fast. _And what I remember is still not all! How I want this to be over and done with. Yet as little as I like to admit it, I do feel fear as well, and the more I dwell on death, the more I feel that fear._

To his relief it was not long before Bregor came down with his breakfast, and what looked like a bundle of clothing under his arm.

Halbarad took the bowl from Bregor, but nearly gagged as he looked at it. “I, I’m sorry. I can’t.” He looked away, upset that he could not even bring himself to eat a few bites. _And I_ am _hungry, but…_

“I understand,” Bregor said. “You don’t have to.”

When Halbarad looked back at Bregor, the other said nothing more about it, but handed him a shirt, shoes, and trousers.

“Here, these should fit you better than what you have on now,” Bregor said.

“Because no man should die barefoot in ill-fitting clothes?” Halbarad snapped, then looked away again and bit his lip. “I am sorry, that was… Thank you.” _He’s a good man, and he’s treating me much better than he has to. His kindness doesn’t deserve my temper._

After Halbarad put on the new clothes, which _did_ fit better, Bregor took the shirt and trousers he had on before. “The trial is set to begin at the fourth hour,” he said. “I’ll be taking you up to the great hall just before then.”

After what seemed only a short time Bregor came back, with three Rangers following him. For all that as Halbarad stood up his legs felt like they might fold at any moment, he crossed his cell to the door seemingly steadily. Bregor opened the door, and Halbarad stepped outside.

“We didn’t put your sling back on,” Bregor said when he checked Halbarad’s chains. “Do you want it?”

Halbarad shrugged, trying not to flinch when he moved his left arm. “It scarcely matters. Leave it.” _Even if I regret it an hour from now._

“If you’re sure,” Bregor said, sounding doubtful.

“Yes,” Halbarad said. “I can do without.” _It truly matters not._

Now, after some hesitation, it was Bregor’s turn to shrug. “So be it then. As we leave, follow four paces behind me,” he went on. “When we reach the great hall, you may still have to wait some time before you can enter.”

Halbarad nodded, and Bregor told the Rangers to take up position and follow him. It was not far to the great hall, and Halbarad and his guards halted in the waiting area just outside the hall while Bregor went on in. _For all that Caras Dirnen demands more ceremony than a clearing in the woods would’ve done, I’d as lief go straight to my death from here. I’ve faced the chance of death in battle often enough, yet now death is certain, and it is_ still _the waiting beforehand that seems hardest._

Halbarad glanced at the men guarding him. _Bregor did not say it, but once my sentence is spoken,_ _they will also lead me to the block_. _Or the gallows. Whichever it is._ _And then they’ll undo my shackles and tie my hands on my back._ _Maybe a chance to say a few words – but what could I say? – and then a blindfold, the order to kneel, or the rope put around my neck, and…_ He bit his lip and took a deep breath. _I know the sentence, I knew it the day I turned myself in, and it is what I deserve. Yet_ _I was once a good man, faithful and honourable, or at least, so I thought – had I truly been thus, I would not have submitted, even under torture._ He took another deep breath. _But if there is any of the Powers who would still hear me, may they grant me the strength to at least keep my courage,_ _here and on the scaffold._

Across from him in the hall was an enclosure where a group of Rangers was standing, also waiting. He wanted to look away, but the distraction of watching them kept the thoughts and images running through his mind at bay. _Are they here to see their kin and their fellows avenged, or merely for the spectacle? But to stand before them to be judged is my penance, and I must bear it._

~*~

“Before you ask, I don’t know what Father has found.” Elrohir followed Aragorn up to the gallery above the great hall.

“I didn’t say a thing,” Aragorn protested.

“True, but I know you, little brother.” Elrohir smiled as he spoke, but with his next words his expression turned more serious. “All I know is that Father didn’t rest this night even after Halbarad was returned to his cell. He said he was still thinking on what he had seen.”

“But he will be ready to speak of it?” Aragorn asked. They were looking down into the great hall from the gallery behind the dais. About thirty Rangers, along with several Councillors, were standing in the enclosure Bregor had set for them to one side of the hall.

“Estel, that is only the third time you asked in the last hour,” Elrohir said, his sigh an exasperated mix of understanding and amusement. “He said he will be.”

“I know,” Aragorn replied. “Yet he returned Halbarad to his cell closer to dawn than to midnight, and he wouldn’t have gone on that long if what he found wasn’t important.”

“I stood as Father’s anchor, so I know the time well,” Elrohir said sharply. “But all he said was that he was still thinking on it and that he didn’t want to go over it twice.”He wondered whether he should tell Aragorn now how troubled Elrond had seemed by what he had learned. _Or the anger I felt from him at one point._

Aragorn turned away from the railing and sighed. “Neither of us can force him to speak, nor is there time now even if he would speak, so it will have to do. I’d best go down to the hall.”

Elrohir stayed a while longer, leaning on the balustrade and watching the people downstairs. _It looks like any Ranger in the Angle with half an excuse to be here has come. But Estel… I too wonder what Father has found, and we’ll know soon enough. All this… I suppose it is a relief that Halbarad did not betray all that he might have, and that we did not unknowingly harbour a traitor in our midst for years. Even so he did betray both allegiance and friendship and served the Enemy for years._ He shook his head. _‘Tis true the hearts of Men can be fickle, yet I always thought him true and steady, among the best of his kind. And I cannot but think that the good man I knew would have been horrified to see what he became._

It was easy to bring to mind the eager young lad hanging on every word as he and Elladan told him and a few other lads at the archery field here in Caras Dirnen the story of how Bard the Bowman had brought down Smaug. They had all been so keen to hear stories of the world outside the Angle and learn what he and Elladan could teach them to improve their archery. Later, Estel had always insisted that Halbarad’s prowess with the bow had been _his_ fault. Halbarad had certainly taken the lessons to heart, much to Estel’s frustration. As much as the two had been a match with the sword, Halbarad had always had the edge in archery.

_And as a Ranger – and as a friend – he made true on his early promise. Estel can only do what he must, but he will not be the only one who will mourn a friend. Curse the Enemy and his servants for bringing us to this pass!_

~*~

As he came down the stair from the gallery, Aragorn saw that Halbarad and the Rangers guarding him were already waiting by the main door. Borlas and Marach were standing together on the dais beside the judges’ table, while Bregor stood talking with Mallor and Hatholdir. From what Aragorn could see of Bregor’s expression, the two Councillors were not too pleased by what he said. _And no sign of Father yet._

_When did Hatholdir arrive though?_ Aragorn wondered. _It must have been late last night or early enough this morning that he had time to change out of his travel clothes. At least, unlike Mallor and Edrahil, Hatholdir has a direct interest in the case. And also unlike them, he was sent for._

By now the three had seen him and Aragorn had to come over to speak with them.

“Lord Hatholdir, Lord Mallor,” he greeted the councillor representing the outside villages and his companion.

“My Lord,” Hatholdir replied, with Mallor nodding and mumbling his own greeting.

“Your seneschal told us that the Council will have no say in the traitor’s judgement,” Hatholdir immediately went on.

“That is so,” Aragorn said. “He committed the deeds for which he stands to answer as a Ranger and that is how he will be judged.”

“Even so his deeds against his own people should be judged before the Council,” Mallor said. Hatholdir looked annoyed at Mallor speaking in his stead but nodded sharply in agreement at his words.

“By law, only if he had attempted to hold and rule the lands he attacked,” Bregor said.

“As if that would not have been next!” Mallor said.

“I’m more concerned with what he _did_ do,” Hatholdir replied now, with a glare at both Bregor and Mallor.

“And that _is_ what he will be judged on. Come to me tomorrow to discuss what the villages need after the Orc attacks,” Aragorn said to Hatholdir, then spoke to Bregor. “Lord Seneschal, it is nearly time to begin.” _Before you end up in a fistfight with Mallor. And also before_ I _end up in a fistfight with Mallor._

“Of course, my lord,” Bregor replied, looking chastened.

“My lords.” Aragorn dismissed the Councillors with a nod and turned towards the dais, where Borlas and Marach had been joined by Elrohir. As he did, he spotted Halbarad’s wife in the shadows at the back of the enclosure. _Perhaps she shouldn’t be here – yet if there is one person who has a right to be here, it’s Dineth. I should maybe go speak with her, but I doubt she wants too much attention drawn to her presence._

“Where is Master Elrond?” Marach asked as soon as Aragorn joined him and Borlas at the judges’ table on the dais. “He should have told us his findings earlier. Or might it not be better to delay the trial until noon and hear him before then? I have little liking for surprises.”

Borlas shrugged. “I’m not fond of them either, and to hear Master Elrond’s findings here for the first time is not as it should be.” He gestured at the Councillors. “Yet so much about this trial is irregular already, including having others than Rangers present, that one more thing is of little consequence.”

“Elrohir said Master Elrond did not want to needlessly go over the same things twice within a few hours. He assured me that Master Elrond _will_ be here to tell us his findings, so there is no need for delay.” Aragorn tried not to show his own irritation at Elrond.

_And of course he chooses this moment to come in!_ Aragorn thought as Elrond, together with Elrohir, quietly sat down in the chairs for the witnesses that had been placed to the side of the dais. Aragorn could not read anything from his carefully bland expression.

With an inward sigh, Aragorn turned to Bregor as the bell for the fourth hour rung. _As hard as this will be, it’ll be a relief to have it behind me._

~*~

_At last_ , Halbarad thought when Bregor returned to where he and his guards stood waiting. He could see only part of the hall and had been unable to guess how long it would be until the trial started. _And I am already starting to regret not putting on the sling._ The arm definitely hurt, but for now it was more of a throbbing pain than a sharp one. _I can ignore it long enough to make it through the trial._

“When I give the sign, you will enter the hall, and walk towards the stand, where you will halt and wait. You are not to kneel or make any other obeisance, and you will only speak when you are asked to do so.” Bregor did not wait for Halbarad to acknowledge his instructions, but immediately turned to speak to his guards. They were to proceed in the same positions as before, the only change that they would walk with swords drawn.

Beyond the entrance Halbarad could hear Aragorn call for silence, and the earlier din stopped abruptly. Bregor clearly expected this, for as soon as Aragorn stopped talking, he nodded at Halbarad to enter the great hall.

Only a few steps, and Halbarad was inside the hall. Fleetingly, he was grateful for the shoes Bregor had found him – _one less thing for people to stare at._ A quick glance ahead revealed Aragorn and the other captains sitting behind a table on the dais. At first he did not look to the enclosure on his left, but as he walked past the shuffling and murmurs were such that he did glance to the side. Many of those who stood there were men he had fought beside, commanded, followed… Their faces were hard, unforgiving. _Some of them will have had kin on the farms I destroyed. I betrayed the oaths we all swore. I served the Enemy and fought against my own people alongside Orcs. How else could they feel? But the woman at the back, is that…?_ He could not be quite sure, and his guards would not take kindly to him holding back and fidgeting and stretching to try to see, but then she took a step forward and turned her face slightly in his direction. _Dineth!_

~*~

Aragorn watched Halbarad intently as he entered the great hall. His steps were steady, though there was a hidden tension in how he held himself, and the slightest of hesitations as he passed by the enclosure. His face as he reached the stand and stood behind the railing while one of the Rangers fastened his chains to the stand seemed calm, more so than during the days of questioning. He did not look up at the dais beyond a brief glance before looking down at his hands again.

As Halbarad waited quietly, Aragorn’s thoughts turned to other occasions in this same hall. It had been here that Halbarad had sworn fealty to him as lord, so many years ago – _and here also he received his Ranger star and swore yet another oath to me. I’d only just received my own star from our captain, and I was worried that I’d drop Halbarad’s star or accidentally stab him with the pin. And now he comes before me again, both oaths broken, and it falls to me to reward that which has been given._

Bregor, who had made his way to the front of the hall again, now stepped forward to read out the charges.

“Halbarad Halladanion, formerly Captain of the Grey Company of the Rangers of the North, by your own admission and by what has been witnessed by others, you have committed high treason in taking up arms against the Chieftain and wounding him with the intent to slay him, and in taking the service of the Dark Lord’s lieutenant who is known as the Mouth of Sauron. A lesser charge of treason is brought against you for the breaking of your oaths as a Ranger by taking up arms against your fellow Rangers with the intent to cause their deaths, and for the murders of those of your own people who died when you led an army of Orcs against them. For all that you stand accused of, the penalty of old is death. Further charges against you for the other deeds you committed in the Enemy’s service will not be addressed separately but are contained within these greater charges you face.”

“Your case will be judged by a tribunal of three Ranger captains, rather than as is customary for lesser cases by your own captain alone. “

“Is there aught you wish to say at this time?”

Halbarad shook his head in denial.

“Then,” Bregor said, “before the tribunal pronounces your doom, the captains will review all that has come to light while you were questioned.”

Bregor quickly went over everything that had happened since the beginning of the year, the first attacks on the farms west of Hoarwell, followed by the Rangers’ attempts to find the Orcs. At each farm that Bregor mentioned it was as if Halbarad shrank in on himself further. When Bregor spoke of the child the Rangers had found alive on one farm and how the boy had told them that the Orcs were led by a Man, there were angry murmurs from the men in the hall. Halbarad raised his head at the mention of a survivor, but he gave no further reaction.

When Bregor mentioned that Halbarad had given himself up, there were further murmurs. Bregor stopped and urged the Rangers to silence before he would go on.

_No matter what other rumours they heard,_ that _was news to many,_ Aragorn thought, only half listening as Bregor went on to sum up what they had learned during the days of questioning in Caras Dirnen, starting with the ambush in which Halbarad had been captured and what they had been able to glean of his years in the Mouth’s service.

Next, Bregor lifted up Halbarad’s shirt to show the flogging scars on his back, and spoke of how he had gained them, setting the watching Rangers to a restless murmur again.

Halbarad looked acutely uncomfortable at the few outcries of pity. The murmur in the hall persisted when Bregor mentioned Halbarad’s memory loss and his inability to remember much of what he had done while in the Enemy’s service, but its tone turned ugly, and Bregor quickly went on.

_It was hard to believe for us as well,_ Aragorn thought. _Little wonder that they react the same._

“Further examination of the accused’s body revealed an old head wound and a deep scar on his leg that matched what we learned of his capture by Orcs,” Bregor said, raising his voice to be heard over the noise. “When he remained unable to remember more, he asked Master Elrond to help him retrieve what he could not recall on his own. Master Elrond agreed to try and was able to confirm that the accused spoke the truth about his lost memories. He also found that the Mouth of Sauron had interfered with those memories.”

“Master Elrond will now speak of his final findings,” Bregor said. He turned to address the Rangers. “What he has to say is new to us all, including those who now sit in judgement. If there is too much noise, I will have the hall cleared.”

“Thank you, Lord Seneschal.” Aragorn stood up and turned to Elrond. “Master Elrond, if you please, the tribunal will now hear your findings.”

The hall was utterly silent as soon as the Lord of Imladris stepped forward to address the captains. “As the Lord Chieftain said, I looked into the thoughts and memories of the Man Halbarad Halladanion to ascertain the truth of what he had said before and to try to help him retrieve his missing memories. Many of my findings I already shared with you. However, what I will say now I only discovered last night myself, and I am grateful to have this opportunity to present new evidence at this point in the trial.”

Aragorn frowned. _Of course he knows our frustration at being kept in the dark. And equally of course he would refer to it_.

~*~

Halbarad looked up in surprise when Master Elrond said that he had not yet shared his findings with the captains. _At least he’ll be able to give them the answers they did not yet have. I only_ _wish he could have got rid of that wall._ His headache had _still_ not cleared entirely, and knowing the wall was there made it feel as if there was a deep wound running right through his head. _It matters as little as the pain in my arm, though, as much as I want it gone. It’ll all be gone and done with soon enough._

_I cannot bear to look at Aragorn – he would not be so angry at my betrayal if he did not still also remember our friendship. It troubles him more than it should, and I fear it will grieve him even more when it comes to carrying out my sentence. The hurt I’ve done him in body and mind both… And that is only one thing I did. Those Rangers who have come here to see justice done, if they knew all they would not pity me for the scars on my back._

As Master Elrond started to tell his tale, Halbarad looked down. He tried to hold back the memories of the sleep questioning, but the other’s words drew him back relentlessly into his thoughts.

=~*~=

_“Do not yet try to sleep,” Elrond tells him once he lies down on the third, unused bed in Elrond’s rooms._

What should I do?

_“Do not speak in mind,” Elrond says out loud. “I will be in your thoughts, but your awareness must be on the room, not on what is in your head.”_

_“I’ll try,” he says, though he cannot stop thinking it at Master Elrond as well._

_“Worry not,” Master Elrond says as he gets up and walks over to the hearth where a kettle is hanging over a small fire. He pours some of the water into a bowl and a sudden fresh scent fills the room. “Athelas. It should help to clear your mind.”_

_Halbarad takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. The scent reminds him of a cool spring morning with a bite of frost still in the air that yet carries a promise of warmth to come._

_Elrond looks at him. “You’re doing fine. I’ll tell you when to…”_

~*~

_“…wake up,” he hears, and he opens his eyes as he becomes aware of a splitting headache and another nosebleed._

_Master Elrond looks frustrated, and he says nothing as he hands Halbarad a cloth to stem the nosebleed. Halbarad feels as weary as if he has been hard at work for hours as he slowly sits up._

_“It didn’t work, did it?” Halbarad asks, though he already knows from Master Elrond’s defeated expression._

_“No.” Master Elrond leans his head in his hands. He too looks weary._

_“How long was I asleep?” Halbarad asks._

_“Some hours. It is late afternoon.”_

_“Oh.” Halbarad puts down the cloth he has been holding against his nose. “Then this is it?” He looks down and tries to cool his anger over the Mouth doing this to him. Then he raises his head again._ NO! If I give up now, those answers will die with me. _“Are there not still questions that we can find the answer to? Even with that cursed wall?”_

_Master Elrond gives him a searching look that he somehow endures, then merely asks, “Are you up to it?”_

_“I…I think so. Yes,” Halbarad replies._

_Master Elrond gives him another long look before he nods in agreement. “As you will, then.”_

~*~

_The hallway is dim, but remembering what he did before, Halbarad imagines a lantern to light their way. The walls are dark, smooth –_ no bricked-up holes here _– and Halbarad can only see a few doors. Master Elrond is looking around, his expression unreadable to Halbarad, until he turns and looks directly at Halbarad._

Take me to _where_ your memory of Aragorn came back. Show me the wall you broke through _._ Don’t think about it. Do it. Now!

_The wall is made of pale grey stone, the same kind that was once used to build the Keep. A small gap, only a few stones wide and high, lets them look inside, into an empty, dust-ridden room._

_Halbarad looks down at a rustling noise and sees dead leaves on forest soil. He shrugs at Master Elrond’s questioning look._ I wasn’t thinking of hallways when I was here before. This is the ground I was standing on then. _The scent of athelas is still there, somehow reminding him that in his own thoughts he has control. When he turns around a hallway of the same stone as the wall appears around them._

Can you enlarge the hole, so we can enter? _Master Elrond asks._

_Halbarad nods and tries to think away the stones, but a sharp, stabbing headache stops him. He looks at the wall again. I wonder… He bends down and easily pulls out a stone._

This should be enough, _he says after some minutes of work._

Thank you, _Master Elrond says as he bends down to step into the room. Halbarad follows him_.

Shouldn’t the memories I found be in here still?

Perhaps, _Master Elrond answers after some thinking,_ but you do remember what was here, and if I am right, you…

=~*~=

“…hid away the memories the Enemy would have wanted to find most,” Master Elrond said. “The first wall in Halbarad’s mind protected the secrets of the Dúnedain: the purpose of the Rangers, the existence of Isildur's Heir, the location of the Angle…”

Halbarad did not look at Aragorn or the other captains. _Master Elrond almost makes it sound as if I did something canny or admirable. Matters would have been worse if I had not done this, but that is hardly a virtue._

“I went on to delve deeper in Halbarad’s hidden memories,” Master Elrond said. “I needed to find what else was locked away when he…”

=~*~=

…used this wall, this room, to hide what you knew. _He walks over to the wall opposite the hole they entered through._

_As Halbarad joins him, he too sees what caught Master Elrond’s interest and he quickly reaches out to touch what appears to be another filled-in hole, like the one they found before._

I hope there isn’t another of the Mouth’s walls behind this. _He takes a deep breath to stem his nausea at the idea. The air still_ _smells of athelas, and as he concentrates on the scent, his fear of what he might find fades somewhat._

_The stones feel strangely familiar as his hands slide over them, almost as if they recognise him and he them. They whisper to him, and he leans in to hear it._

Master Elrond, the stones tell me not to tear them down. They say that what lies behind them should remain forgotten, remain safe. I… _He pauses but goes on after an encouraging nod from the other. …_ I, when I remembered Aragorn, I already knew there was a second wall there, but also that I shouldn’t break it.

_Master Elrond also puts his hands on the wall._ This wall was put up by you, and it does not feel as if there is another wall behind it.

Then I’ll look. _Halbarad does not wait for what Master Elrond might say and pushes at the wall. A stone shifts, then a second one, and they are inside the memory._

=~***~=

> _Halbarad had been pacing, nominally on guard, while Aragorn and Gandalf talked. He had not overheard what they said, but Gandalf’s stern mien and his even gruffer than usual manner made it clear that it was a serious matter._
> 
> _Then, at their parting, Aragorn had said to Gandalf, “I will join you in the hunt for Gollum in the new year,” and “It’s only fitting after all that Isildur’s heir should labour to repair Isildur’s fault.”_
> 
> _No more had either of them said within his hearing, but it was enough. Enough to know and enough to chill him to the bone._

=~***~=

I _did_ know about the One Ring! _Halbarad turns his head to look at Master Elrond._ But why is that here? Did I…?

_Master Elrond looks relieved, but he says nothing as he crouches down to examine again both the wall of the room that kept the memory of the Ring and the room where Halbarad’s memories of Aragorn had been kept. He murmurs something to himself, then turns to Halbarad and holds his gaze for some time before speaking._

You must not speak of this.

I won’t, _Halbarad replies._ Not that I even knew I knew this, but I kept it safe when I betrayed almost all else. I’ll not fail now. _He continues to meet Master Elrond’s stern gaze._ If the Mouth had looked here, would he have found this? Even with these walls?

Perhaps, _Elrond says._ I do not know the whole of his abilities, so I cannot say for certain.

And if I had not given myself up, if I’d turned my back on what I remembered, gone to Umbar and then to Barad-dûr? _Halbarad feels sick even as he asks the question._ I’d already remembered Aragorn, and I _knew_ there were more memories there...

That, I truly cannot say, _Elrond says, giving him another long, searching look._ But you didn’t. You didn’t turn your back. Are you up to looking further?

Yes, _Halbarad replies while they return to the first room._ Oh, there is the door, _he adds as he walks over and opens it._

_The corridor they enter is so narrow they have to walk behind each other. Though here too the walls are of pale grey stone, the corridor is only dimly lit even when Halbarad remembers to imagine a lantern. Their footsteps are muffled by a thick layer of dust on the floor, and the dust in the air is thick enough that Halbarad wants to sneeze._

How long haven’t I been here? _Halbarad thinks half to himself._

I’d say since your capture by the Orcs, so ten years, _Elrond answers distractedly as he stops at the first door they encounter._

_Halbarad steps up beside him and opens the door. He immediately slams it closed again, but too slow to stop the memory._

=~***~=

> _Daeron raises his hand to signal a stop to their sparring bout, and he and Halbarad both lower their blades._
> 
> _“Had enough?” Halbarad asks._
> 
> _“I could ask you the same,” the other replies. “You were starting to flag a bit.” Halbarad starts to protest, but Daeron goes on. “I thought it rude to press on and soundly beat you in front of an audience,” and he indicates the edge of the sparring area. “Particularly this audience,” he adds with a wide grin._
> 
> _“Soundly beat, hah!” Halbarad snorts and turns to look. Daeron’s sister Dineth is sitting in the grass next to the fence. She stands up and waves at them. Halbarad realises he is staring at her and quickly looks away._
> 
> _“Go on, go over and talk to her,” Daeron says. “We both know she isn’t here to see me.”_
> 
> _Halbarad hopes Daeron doesn’t see his blush, but he does do as the other says and heads over to talk to Dineth._

=~***~=

_As Halbarad closes the door, he sees again what he remembered earlier – Dineth waving him goodbye as he left to go on patrol – and he turns away from Master Elrond and tries to collect himself._

My wife. She came to see me in my cell, _he tells Master Elrond after a few moments. At the other’s questioning look he adds_ , Daeron, whom I killed in the Ranger camp, was her brother. _Master Elrond says nothing, and after a brief silence Halbarad goes on_. She had with her my youngest son, who wasn’t even born when I left. I’m glad that I have seen him, but had I remembered Dineth or known about Haldan before I came here… I _would_ have slain myself somewhere in the Wild rather than make him a traitor’s son, make her a traitor’s wife.

_He shakes his head at an image of a group of Rangers walking along a narrow path between thorny bushes. There’s nothing much to distinguish what he saw from any other patrol, but somehow, he knows this is the patrol that sealed his fate. Aragorn walks in front of him, and there are others behind them. Another image; they are sitting around a campfire, except Bregor who is on guard, and they are talking softly._

_Elrond looks at him but does not speak. Halbarad tries to see more, but apart from a flash of them walking in line, there is nothing._

If I may? _Elrond asks_.

Of course, _Halbarad replies, and he feels Elrond take hold of the memory of the Rangers walking and try to push forward when it runs out_. There’s nothing more, _Halbarad wants to say, but then there is a flash of them breaking up their camp_.

Go on, I am right behind you, Elrond says. _Halbarad is walking blind, into… The corridor they are in starts to fade into fog like the previous time he tried to remember the ambush_. Stay with the memory, _Elrond says when he hesitates. The fog is dense, and cold enough to make him shiver. When he looks down, Halbarad sees that they are walking along a narrow bridge of pale grey stone that almost seems to glow in the diffuse light. They walk on for some time. The bridge is long, longer than Halbarad expected it would be, and if he stares at it too long, he can see_ through _the paving stones beneath him, into..._ What would it be like to jump? Would I just keep falling, or would I wake up and step out of it? _He continues to walk_.

_At last the end of the bridge comes into view and widens into…_

=~***~=

> I…
> 
> _He looks around._
> 
> _Nothing._
> 
> There was… someone… here? Master Elro… No, he’s not part of the mem…
> 
> Where, who… am I? My name…my name is…?
> 
> _Now he_ is _falling… He braces himself, but there is no ground, no sudden stop, only…_
> 
> _Darkness._
> 
> _He is in the dark and he hurts and… that is_ all _he knows, all he is. He wants more, but even to merely_ want _is hard and he feels as if he is floating, only half there. He tries to open his eyes, but at the first flutter of movement a sharp pain shoots through his head and he nearly blacks out. Another flare of pain as he tries to shift his legs._
> 
> Lie still _._ You are wounded, but you are safe.
> 
> What happened? Where am I?
> 
> You are with friends, you are safe. Do you remember your name?
> 
> Who are you?
> 
> That matters not. I am a friend. Answer, and I can help you find yourself.
> 
> I…I am…
> 
> ANSWER!
> 
> _The demand hurts his head and he tries to stop the voice, but he has to say something, anything, to silence it._
> 
> I don’t know. _I don’t know… Part of him wants to please the other, to answer his question if he could, but …_ I don’t know where I am, I must take care, _a deeply buried part of him whispers._ A friend would not hurt me. I… can’t, I don’t know… __
> 
> Do you remember who you were travelling with, or where you were going?
> 
> _The voice does not sound unkindly now, and despite the pain when he probes his memories, he wants to answer, yet again_ something _warns him. Not that there is anything_ to _tell._
> 
> _He drifts back into deeper darkness, but the pain remains, and when he returns, so does the question he cannot answer._
> 
> Do you remember your name?
> 
> _Again, nothing comes to him._ _He no longer hurts as much as before, but he feels numb throughout, and all around him is still darkness. As he tries to move, he knows pain is still there, underneath everything._
> 
> Do you remember your name?
> 
> Who are you? _he asks. His head now hurts worse than before._
> 
> I am a friend.
> 
> Then should I not know you?
> 
> You will know me when you remember yourself _._
> 
> *
> 
> Do you remember your name?
> 
> Where am I?
> 
> *
> 
> _He is walking, slowly, to help his leg. There have been many such walks, he knows, but it is hard to remember anything else._
> 
> You are doing well. See, I only wish to help you. You are safe here.
> 
> *
> 
> _He is alone when he wakes up. His whole body feels bruised, and his head hurts worse than it has for a long time._
> 
> I am… safe? I… am… Who am I?
> 
> *
> 
> Where am I?
> 
> You are safe. You are with friends. Do you remember your name?
> 
> Who… are you?
> 
> _*_
> 
> _He is standing with his hands chained high over his head and his feet only just on the ground._
> 
> It pains me that you do not try harder to remember. I am but trying to help you.
> 
> Help me…? _His head hurts still. He can barely think._ This is not help, s _omething inside whispers as he shifts to try taking some of his weight off his shoulders and wrists._
> 
> We will talk later.
> 
> _A heavy door slams shut, but he doubts that he is alone. The strain of his position –_ any higher and it’ll pull my arms out of their sockets, again _– makes it hard to breathe and he is getting lightheaded._
> 
> _*_
> 
> _He is not where he was._ But where was that?
> 
> WHO ARE YOU? DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR NAME?
> 
> _Part of him knows this is a memory, not_ real _, not happening_ now _._
> 
> _Yet he answers._
> 
> NO, _he manages._ I do not.

=~***~=

_“Halbarad! Look at me. You are awake. You are in Caras Dirnen, not in your memories,” Master Elrond says, his hand on Halbarad’s shoulder._

_Halbarad feels the memory lose its hold on him._

_“The voice that questioned you, was that the Mouth?”_

_“No,” Halbarad replies. “Or not at first. The last questions… I think I was somewhere else than before. That was him. I don’t know who the other was.”_

Are you sure of that? _Master Elrond asks, giving him_ another _of those terrible stern looks._

That it was someone else, or that I don’t know him?

Both.

I’m certain it wasn’t the Mouth, _Halbarad says._ But I can only be sure that I don’t know him _now._

When you think of him _,_ is there aught that stands out? _Master Elrond seems worried._ I felt your fear and confusion in your memory, but do you still feel them when you look back?

_Halbarad closes his eyes to try and recall what he had seen. At first, he fails to even find it again, but Master Elrond takes him into a room with walls of fog – how? he wonders – and he can examine the memory again._

_“No,” he says out loud. “I know I was afraid and in pain, but I no longer feel any of that when I look back. All I can see is that he tried to trick me, but that I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know. And I knew I shouldn’t.”_

_“That, I think, was when you built your own wall to hide what you knew. Even though you no longer knew you knew it.” Master Elrond seems relieved and Halbarad wonders what had him so worried, but the other says nothing more about it._

_“Now, again if you think you are up to it, I want to go back to your memories of the Mouth.”_

_Halbarad nods reluctantly. He can feel Master Elrond wants to know more about this other stranger in his thoughts, and he is not eager to return to his memories of the Mouth, but…_

=~***~=

> _The man looks at him searchingly, and he feels as if his very soul is being weighed._
> 
> _“How do you feel?” the man asks._
> 
> _“Good,” he says. “Rested, almost.”_
> 
> _The other smiles. It is a kind smile, though there is an edge to it. “I am glad to hear that. Now that you are healed, the time has come to resume your duties.”_
> 
> _“My…my duties? I don’t remember…” He tries, but… “Sir, I don’t think I even know my own name.”_
> 
> _“Then tell me what you do remember.”_
> 
> _He tries again._ I _… “I…there’s nothing. Sir, should I know you, know your name? Because I don’t think I do…”_
> 
> _“You had a bad head wound, and it has taken much of your memory. But fear not, I will guide you. You need no name to serve the Great Lord again, for I too have no name.” The other smiles again, and he feels reassured, yet also ashamed, and wanting to do better._
> 
> _Yet he insists. “I_ had _a name.”_
> 
> _“It is gone,” the other says, again looking at him with that all-seeing gaze._
> 
> _A chill runs through him, but he ignores it and raises his hand to rub at the scar under his hair as it throbs and sends a sharp pain through his head. “Did you forget your name too? And the Great Lord? Is he the one I served… before?”_
> 
> _“You let your name be taken from you. I left mine behind freely, for I had no more need for it,” the other replies, adding sharply, “Do not compare yourself to your betters. You are nothing and your only use is in your service.”_
> 
> ~*~
> 
> This is not right, I…Should I be here? _He glances sideways at his lord._ And I have a name, I’m sure of it. I’m not… _He quickly shakes off the distraction and pays attention again to his environs. The others are still bent over the map, and he quickly rejoins them._
> 
> _“Pin them down there.” He points at the map. “If Sauron’s troops advance along this line…”_
> 
> _The Mouth looks at him, eyes burning into his. He clutches at his head as a sharp pain flares up behind his eyes and the world goes black. When he comes to, he is chained to the whipping post in the inner courtyard._
> 
> _There is no point in trying not to scream, he knows. Silence, resistance, only invites worse._
> 
> _He still tenses up in anticipation, loses his footing when the whip strikes, and when he scrambles to pull his feet under him again, he happens to look at the Mouth – and he knows his master is making sure he feels it in his thoughts as much as on his back._
> 
> _That, he does attempt to brace himself against, even as the flogging continues. He can barely stand up and even as he attempts to detach himself from the pain, the pressure on his mind grows._
> 
> You are _nameless_. You are _nothing_. You are the least of the Great Lord’s servants. You will forget these thoughts of names and of other places.
> 
> NO. I am… I am…
> 
> _The whip bites into his back and scatters his thoughts to the wind._
> 
> You are _nameless_. You are _nothing_. You are what I allow you to be.

=~***~=

I…

I _am_ Halbarad.

“Halbarad!”

_Master Elrond’s eyes, burning bright and cold as stars, anger in his face – and mind, for he can still feel the other’s thoughts._

_He dares not move, and he remembers that the healer was once a warrior and battle_ _commander. All his senses tell him to run, to hide, but he cannot even look away_. What did I…?

_Abruptly Master Elrond’s anger lessens, though Halbarad can see – and feel – it is not gone entirely._

_“He made you forget,” Master Elrond almost growls. “And used pain to reinforce what he did. And when you started to remember once more, he did it again.” Another flare of anger and Halbarad attempts to draw back further._

_“I, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Halbarad stammers. “I…I…”_

_Elrond exhales sharply, and after he closes his eyes briefly, his look at Halbarad is entirely different. “Halbarad, my wrath is not for you, but for him who did this to you.”_

=~*~=

“And that is the whole of what I found, though I do not doubt that had I searched longer, I would have found further abuses,” Master Elrond said, glancing at Halbarad before he turned back to the captains. “Halbarad came into the Mouth’s hands not even knowing who he was, yet he kept safe all that he knew before.”

Halbarad saw Bregor step forward again, but then Borlas spoke.

“Master Elrond, if I understand your words correctly,” he said, “this confirms that the Mouth deliberately stopped Halbarad from remembering anything of who he was? Without that he would have regained his memories on his own?”

“Indeed,” Elrond replied. “Had he been given the chance to do so, I think he would have regained his memories, and his name, years ago.”

“But why? The Mouth must have known that his traitor, his captive if you like, might know much of interest. Why stop him remembering?”

“A good question, and my answer is that he probably didn’t know. Halbarad was not, it seems, at first captured by the Mouth. His first captor attempted to interrogate him, but he was hampered by Halbarad’s head injury and his wariness when questioned. By the time he came to the Mouth, his memories and his name were both buried deeply.”

“The Mouth then told him that he was a servant of the Enemy who had lost his memory after an injury, and thus gained his service and his loyalty. Why the Mouth didn’t dig deeper into Halbarad’s memories…? I can but guess that he found him of use as he was, or that, from how he still had to enforce his will, it was the only way he could make him obey. He must have known Halbarad was a Dúnadan, but even so he was satisfied to break him to his will, rather than find out all he knew.”

_And that is it. No matter all this talk about forgetting and being made to forget, the Mouth found me_ _useful enough. Master Elrond has seen it, but he doesn’t understand. Not wholly_ , Halbarad thought. He could not bear to look at the captains, or at Master Elrond. _It is true enough that each time I started remembering, the Mouth broke me again. But I should have held out. Just one time, I should have. No matter what the Mouth did to me, or how he tricked me, I betrayed my people, my oaths, my friends. For all that I didn’t know, I still did as I was ordered to do, and took delight in the evils I did. I still became an Orc._

While he continued to stare at the ground, Halbarad could hear Master Elrond return to his seat alongside the dais. Next, Bregor spoke again.

“Then, if there are no further questions for Master Elrond, and if the accused has nothing to say, the time has come for the members of the tribunal to give their verdict. Halbarad Halladanion!”

Halbarad looked up.

“Is there aught you wish to add to what has been said here today?”

“No,” Halbarad said, then rapidly, trying to be heard over the cries from the Rangers – _Traitor! Hang him!_ – “Or, yes… All that Master Elrond just said, it matters not. I still did these things. I betrayed my lord, my people, my oaths. I served the Enemy, and I committed evil deeds, against my own people and against others.” He looked down again.

“Silence in the hall!” Bregor called out, “or I shall have the enclosure cleared!” As the Rangers fell silent, he turned back to address the captains.

“I have more to say,” Halbarad said, before Bregor could continue. “Death is not nearly enough for what I did, but it is all that remains me. After I remembered who I was, I…when I came back to the Dúnedain… I knew that if I wasn’t slain immediately, I would be put to death after standing trial. That…that is as it should be. I did…I am a traitor, a murderer. But… I had remembered things. That I’d forgotten before. The Chieftain’s name. Had I stayed among the Orcs, I could not have kept these secret.” He took a deep breath and pulled his shoulders back to stand straight. “I was once a Man of the West and became an Orc. To now die a Man once more…” He braced himself for another outcry from the men in the hall. When there was only silence, he nodded at Bregor to go on.

~*~

Bregor looked around the hall once more and spoke. “Captain Marach will be the first to speak his verdict.”

As Marach did not speak immediately, Aragorn used the time to look at Halbarad. After his outburst, Halbarad was now calm again, absently rubbing at his broken arm while he watched Marach.

_He is at peace with his fate_ , Aragorn thought. _More so than I find myself. To think of all that they did to him, it breaks my heart. Yet he endured. And whenever he started to regain even a tiny bit of himself, of his own will, it was taken from him again_.

_I am relieved that I am not first. No matter how much of what I believed I knew changed in the days that we questioned Halbarad, even this morning I still thought there was only one possible judgement. Now though_ …

~*~

Halbarad kept his eyes on Marach, who was looking into the hall. _Why does he not speak? It’s not that hard._

Marach turned his head and met his gaze. “Halbarad Halladanion, there is no doubt in my heart that you are guilty of those deeds you are charged with. You did not willingly choose betrayal, yet betrayal it was, and for the sakes of those who died because of your deeds, the penalty can only be death.”

Halbarad released the breath he had not realised he had been holding.

Borlas, too, was slow to speak. He looked down at his hands in front of him. At last, though, after a long look at Halbarad, his gaze unreadable, he did speak. “Halbarad Halladanion, there is no doubt that you did do those things you have been charged with.” He fell silent, glancing down at his hands again.

_Please. Say it. Don’t make me wait_. Something of Halbarad’s distress must have shown in his face, for Borlas abruptly shifted in his chair, almost as if he had only made up his mind now.

“If I had been asked to give my verdict before hearing Master Elrond’s words this morning, I’d have agreed with captain Marach. However, treason requires intent even above action. You did not set out to betray, and it is clear to me that the will driving you was not your own, but your captor’s. For that, and for the fact that you turned yourself in as soon as you did regain yourself, I say that you are not guilty of any of the charges brought against you.”

“What?” Halbarad could not hold back his exclamation, but it was lost in an outburst of sound behind him.

~*~

“Quiet!” Bregor’s voice cut through the shouts from the hall. “Quiet now, or I shall have the hall cleared.”

_And far from all of them disagree with Borlas_ , Aragorn noted, watching the men in the hall as they slowly fell silent again. _So now the decision falls to me. And there is virtue in both verdicts._ _Elrohir said he was certain that I would make the right choice – but can I be sure what he meant? I think I know what Father thinks. Even Halbarad himself is certain of what the right verdict is. But which of these do I think is right_?

Halbarad was still staring at Borlas. Yet as soon as Aragorn made the slightest move, he turned his head to look at him. Halbarad’s gaze on him was determined, urging him to speak.

_Three days ago, I knew the answer. This morning I thought I did. But now?_ _I don’t doubt that there are yet deeds of cruelty done against him that Elrond did not uncover, and I don’t doubt either that there are yet deeds of cruelty done by him that we do not know of. But how can I_ _slay him and call it justice, knowing what was done to him? And how could I not slay him, knowing what he did_?

Aragorn glanced at Halbarad, meeting his gaze briefly, then took a deep breath and spoke.

“Halbarad Halladanion, you stand accused of treason both high and common. Treason cannot go unpunished, and the penalty the ancient laws of the Dúnedain place on it is clear. There is no doubt over your deeds. Yet for an action to be treasonous requires a deliberate act of will, and it is clear that it was _not_ your will to give your service to the Enemy’s servant or to obey his commands. You were a prisoner, and your service was forced from you through lies, deceit and torture. This is found both from Master Elrond’s statement today after examining your thoughts and memories, and from the fact that you surrendered yourself to face trial as soon as you regained any memory of who you had been. Thus, as it falls on me to pronounce your doom, I can only find you not guilty of all that you have been charged with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** Halbarad’s memory about “Isildur’s fault”,
> 
> _Then, at their parting, Aragorn had said to Gandalf, “I will join you in the hunt for Gollum in the new year,” and “It’s only fitting after all that Isildur’s heir should labour to repair Isildur’s fault,”_
> 
> is based on what Aragorn says in “The Council of Elrond.” There is nothing to suggest that anyone else was present or could have overheard.
> 
> “And I,” said Aragorn, “counselled that we should hunt for Gollum, too late though it may seem. And since it seemed fit that Isildur's heir should labour to repair Isildur's fault, I went with Gandalf on the long and hopeless search.”


	10. Chapter 10

**3013, April 29**

Halbarad drew a shuddering breath and squeezed his eyes shut. _I knew it. As soon as he looked at me, I knew what he would say._

The hall grew quiet only after Bregor had shouted for silence yet again.

“Halbarad Halladanion, the members of the tribunal have given their judgement of your case. Do you accept the verdict of not guilty that was the majority decision of the judges?”

Halbarad glanced at the three captains and at Elrohir and Master Elrond to the side of the dais before squaring his shoulders and meeting Bregor’s eyes again.

“I accept the verdict.”

“Then I declare this tribunal over and you are once more a free man,” Bregor intoned formally, before stepping off the dais and walking over to Halbarad. First he turned to the two Rangers. “Could you two stay on duty here until the hall is empty? Look to my second for orders.”

“Hold out your hands,” Bregor said to Halbarad in a much lower voice as he stood next to him. Bregor quickly undid his shackles. “Come along. I’ll take you somewhere where you can sit and rest for a bit.”

Halbarad gave Bregor a grateful look and rubbed at his wrists where the shackles had been. It was strange to not feel their weight. As he followed Bregor he surreptitiously supported his broken arm with his other hand. He avoided Master Elrond’s gaze as they passed by the side of the dais. _I owe him my life, but is that something to be glad of? Maybe I_ should _have appealed the decision._

The captains were talking to several men who had come up to the dais while Bregor had removed Halbarad’s shackles.

Bregor followed his glance. “They’re members of the Council.”

“I know Mallor and Edrahil. I don’t recognise the third.” Halbarad stopped at the door to look.

“Hatholdir,” Bregor replied. “He’s the Councillor for the outer villages. He succeeded his father, Cemendur, four or five years ago.”

“I remember Cemendur,” Halbarad said. _The outer villages_ … A knot of dread and guilt tied his stomach in a twist, and he was glad he had not eaten anything that morning.

“I doubt Hatholdir likes the verdict,” Bregor said, holding the door open for him. “And he won’t be the only one.”

 _I doubt_ I _like the verdict._ Halbarad did not say it. _There’s not much I_ can _say._

He was about to leave the hall when Hatholdir saw him and abruptly started towards him. The knot in his stomach grew even tighter as he noted the tension with which the other held himself as he approached.

“So.” Hatholdir clenched his fists as he spoke. “Here we have the man who murdered over a hundred of his own people walking away in freedom.”

 _Would I try to stop him if he strikes me?_ Behind Hatholdir, Halbarad saw Aragorn and the other judges watching them. _I wish there was something I could say. But even if there are words for my sorrow over the evil I did, they’d be pointless. I cannot undo…_

“Can you not even bother to show some remorse over them, over what you did?”

“I…It would never be enough.” Somehow Halbarad managed to meet Hatholdir’s eyes.

“Indeed, it will not, but it might make you appear a Man, rather than the Orc you claim you no longer are.” Hatholdir turned to Bregor. “Get him out of my sight.”

 _Freedom!_ Halbarad stared at the ground as Hatholdir headed back to the dais. _He is right, yet he is wrong also. To live may turn out a worse fate than the scaffold would have been. But if I start to weep for those I’ve slain, I’d never stop. I can't even think of all..._

“Come along.” Bregor nudged him forward to finally leave the hall.

~*~

“You take a great risk by letting treason go unpunished,” Hatholdir said as soon as he returned to Aragorn and the others, “but I will not argue further about your overly merciful judgement, though I remain puzzled that you could find him innocent. However, our people who dwell outside the safety of the Angle will not feel that justice has been done when the man who betrayed them and slaughtered their kinfolk will walk our lands unburdened by punishment for his deeds.”

“Lord Hatholdir, you heard what Master Elrond found. Halbarad was a prisoner, not a traitor – he had no choice inwhat he did at any time,” Borlas said. “It would have been wrong to put him to death.”

“I did hear what he said,” Hatholdir acknowledged. “And so did you three, yet your judgement was not unanimous.” He looked at Marach, then back at Aragorn and Borlas. “You have already shown mercy in sparing him. He does not deserve to dwell in the comfort of Caras Dirnen as if nothing happened.”

As Hatholdir paused, Aragorn asked, “What then do you have in mind?”

“You must banish him from Dúnedain lands,” Hatholdir said bluntly.

“Out of the question,” Aragorn responded immediately. “I will not declare a man innocent with one breath and condemn him again with the next.”

“That is your reply?” Hatholdir asked. “What about you, captain Marach? You have the interests of the outer villages at heart.”

 _Implying that I do not._ Aragorn let the comment go. For all that Hatholdir was as subtle as a rampaging troll, his question of justice for the people of the outer villages had to be addressed. _As for what to do with Halbarad…_

Marach did not answer immediately, but after some thought he said, “I do, yet the Captain is right also.”

“And Rangers still stick together, I see,” Hatholdir sneered. “Very well, then. Your _innocent man_ may have the freedom of Caras Dirnen, but if he enters the lands where he committed his foul deeds, his life is forfeit.”

“So be it. That judgement is yours to make,” Aragorn replied. “Yet tell me this, Lord Hatholdir, do you blame the sword for the harm it does, or the one who wields it?”

“The one who wields it of course. A weapon has no wi…” Too late Hatholdir recognised the path Aragorn had set him on. “It’s not the same,” he snapped.

“In this case it is,” Aragorn said calmly. “Guilty his hands may be, but he never chose to do the things he was made to do. He had no more will in the matter than the blade he bore had. Blame those who took a good man and broke him and made him into their weapon.”

“Nice words,” Hatholdir scoffed. “I’ll be sure to pass them on to my people whose kin he murdered.”

“He is the Councillor for the outer villages, is he not?” Elrond, who had joined them halfway through Hatholdir’s outburst, asked Aragorn once the Councillors had left again.

“He is. And he is right in that the people there must have their grievances heard also,” Aragorn replied. He felt weary, drained, yet relieved as well that he would not have to slay Halbarad. He was glad of Elrond’s supporting hand on his arm as they at last left the great hall. “Also, Hatholdir won’t be the only one who feels thus. I cannot even say I blame him for it.”

“Perhaps his decree is right for the villages,” Elrond said as they walked on. “You, though, have to look beyond only the villages’ grievances. You had to do justice to _all_ those involved, and I deem you did.”

“I hope so,” Aragorn muttered. “Father, _did_ I err on the side of mercy?” he asked.

“Is mercy ever an error?” The look Elrond gave him was stern. “Do not lose yourself in doubt. You judged from both the head and the heart, and that was all you could do.”

**3013, April 30**

_“…guilty. He shall be taken away to be put to death by the sword.”_

_The guards grab his arms and drag him out of the great hall. The scaffold is immediately outside. There is no block. Aragorn is already there, waiting. He looks grim, and in his hands he holds an enormous sword, as long as he is tall._

_“Kneel,” someone says, and he obeys._

_He looks down, and notices the wooden scaffold is gone. He is kneeling in a puddle of blood that is welling up from the ground._

_As the blood reaches his chest, Halbarad looks up at Aragorn who is now standing on a platform above him. “You’ll have to get on with it, or I’ll drown before you can behead me.”_

_Aragorn nods. “You’re right. But I don’t want to get blood all over myself.” As soon as he steps down from the platform the blood disappears._

_“Thank you,” Halbarad says._

_“Don’t mention it.”_

_Aragorn raises the blade over his head and Halbarad wonders how he can even lift it. Then, the blade starts its downward arc, and Aragorn’s face becomes that of the Mouth._

Halbarad opened his eyes to pitch darkness, his heart beating so hard he thought he should be able to hear it, the flashing blade and the Mouth’s mocking expression still in his mind’s eye.

 _Where… No, just a dream, nothing more. But why is it dark? Where’s the gua… No, of course…There’s no light in here. No guard. Not my cell._ He fumbled to light a candle and gave the room Bregor had put him in a closer examination than he had the previous evening, when he had only taken off his shoes before falling on to the bed and going to sleep. _And I’m alone. I haven’t been by myself since I walked into the Ranger camp._

 _Dusty. The bedlinen is fresh though. Room’s smaller than my cell was. Probably was a servant’s room once._ He set the candle on the small table that stood against the opposite wall. In the corner there was a wooden chest. _Not that I have anything to put in it._

 _What should I do now? I doubt I’m supposed to go down to the Rangers’ dining hall to eat._ He snorted at the thought and lay back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. _I wonder what time it is. It feels early yet._

 _I never thought beyond yesterday, beyond making it to the trial. And now… I am free, Bregor said. But those are just words. And even if they are more than that, what would I do? What can I do?_ He yawned, the dance of the shadows thrown by his candle on the ceiling sending him back to sleep as he watched it. He dozed for some time, his sleep punctuated by uneasy and only half-remembered dreams of fire, until a knock on the door woke him up fully.

“Who’s there?”

“Bregor. Can I _–_ ”

“Come in.”

Sunlight streamed in as the door opened and Halbarad blinked against the brightness.

Bregor quickly closed the door again to shut out the glare of the light. “I’m here to take you to Master Elrond. He wants another look at your arm.”

~*~

“You’re not wearing your sling,” Elrond greeted him.

“I didn’t reckon I’d need it beyond yesterday.” Halbarad caught Bregor rolling his eyes at his answer and shrugged.

“Well, you do,” Elrond said sternly once Bregor had left, “and unless you want to cripple yourself, you should use it. At least you didn’t also remove the splint.”

Halbarad blinked, surprised by his vehemence. “Yes, Master Elrond.” _Why does it even matter?_

From Elrond’s stern look it was clear he had heard the thought. “Please hold out your left arm,” he said just as his silence was starting to make Halbarad feel uneasy. Elrond first checked where the shackles had rubbed Halbarad’s wrist raw, then removed the splint and felt along the break. As gentle as he was, Halbarad still could not help flinching a few times.

“I’m sorry,” Elrond said after the second time. “This cannot be done otherwise.”

“It matters not.”

“It does. But I’ll not argue it with you, not now at least. Can you make a loose fist for me? Stop when it hurts.” Elrond nodded at the fist Halbarad made. “Yes, like that. Now clench your hand as tightly as you can before it hurts.”

Bending his fingers for a loose fist had been easy, but as soon as he tensed his arm muscles a flare of pain shot down his arm.

“That is as far as you can go?” Elrond asked. At Halbarad’s reply he added, “Relax your hand, and stretch out your arm. Again, stop as soon as it hurts.”

Master Elrond made him stretch and raise and turn his arm in various ways for some time, until at last he looked satisfied. “I’ll set you some exercises to do over the next few days. I’m sorry I can’t give you a full examination this morning. It’ll have to wait until the next time I look at your arm. Oh, and I will have Bregor see to it that you continue to eat properly.”

Halbarad nodded. _The exercises will give me something to do._ It still felt odd to move his arms without the weight of shackles on his wrists or without his chains clinking when he made a quick movement.

“These exercises are only to keep your arm from stiffening from disuse while the bones grow together, not yet to strengthen it. Don’t overdo it,” Elrond warned him. “How are you doing?”

Halbarad shrugged. “Well enough, I suppose.” _Is he still reading my thoughts?_

Elrond shook his head. “I am not, at least not by intent. You are as good as shouting them at me. And that is something else we should work on, along with your arm. Not just now, though.” He gave Halbarad a keen glance. “And if there is aught that bothers you, even if it is only a dream, you should come to me or Aragorn.”

“I will,” Halbarad assured him. He did not mention the dream he’d woken up to. _It’s only a nightmare, and wholly explained by the trial._ When Bregor took him back to his room, Halbarad still was unsure whether Elrond had _seen_ his dream, or whether the offer had merely been made out of politeness.

~*~

“So, what happens now?” Marach asked once the members of the tribunal and the others who had been part of their deliberations had sat down in the meeting room. “We all go our way, and this is done?”

 _If only it were that easy,_ Aragorn thought. _I don’t doubt my judgement, but not even half the Rangers in the Keep support it, and that number won’t improve as the news travels._

“I should return to the High Pass soon,” Borlas said. “You too have a company to return to. Bregor is already where his duty lies, Master Elrond has his lands to rule—“

“I will not head back for at least another week,” Elrond interrupted him. “It’s been some time since I’ve been in the Angle, and there are a few people I’d like to see before I go home again.”

“I’m meeting my company near where the camp was attacked,” Marach said. “By the time I’d get to Mount Gram, they’ll be done there. No point in rushing up and down the borders of the Ettenmoors for nothing.” He turned to Aragorn. “Captain, I’m sure you have your own plans, but what will you do about Halbarad?”

Aragorn sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t even spoken to him yet. As for my plans, I’ll have to spend more time in Caras Dirnen than I intended. Hatholdir isn’t the only one who’s unhappy with Halbarad’s release.”

“No Ranger would accept him back, that is certain,” Marach said.

“I would, under the right circumstances,” Borlas said, giving Marach a challenging look, “and I know I’m not the only one. I’ll certainly not say ‘never’. However, I will say ‘not yet’.”

“So would I,” Aragorn added.

“I agree,” Bregor said. “You haven’t spoken to him yet, but I have, and it will be a long time before he should even think about going out on patrol. For the moment I think it’s best to have him stay here in the Keep. I can always use an assistant, and I deem he should be kept from brooding too much.”

“I’d be glad if you would keep an eye on him, certainly in the short term.” Aragorn said, glancing at Elrond, who gave him a quick nod.

“I can do that, Captain,” Bregor said. “And for what it’s worth, you have my support in handling those who disagree with yesterday’s verdict.” Aragorn gave Bregor a grateful smile.

After the meeting, at Elrond’s suggestion Aragorn came along to their room with Elrond and Elrohir.

“You look tired,” Elrohir told Aragorn as the three sat down. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” Aragorn said. “Though with all the new trouble I’ve brought on myself, I expect that to be a rare occurrence for some time.”

“How much trouble do you expect?” Elrond asked.

“Some disagreement between people arguing against or in favour of the verdict. For several more local lords to bar Halbarad from their lands. At least the mayor of Caras Dirnen has already told me she will not do so. Beyond that?” Aragorn shook his head. “It’ll take time for the Rangers, for me as the Chieftain, to regain the trust of the people in the outer villages – they feel, rightly, that we failed in protecting them. Nothing I can’t cope with, but I’ll have to delay some of my plans.”

“What will you do now?” Elrohir asked.

“Once Mount Gram is under our control, set a regular patrol to keep an eye on the northern passes – we’ve relied on the inhospitable terrain up there too long. Talk to the Council and to village leaders outside the Angle, and see what they need. Then go back to the search for Gollum this summer. The winter too if needed.”

“Know that the last part was already decided for you. Mithrandir would suffer no delay and has set out for the hunt by himself,” Elrond said. “Besides, you are far from fit to travel. You should rebuild your strength first and not head out into the Wild for another six weeks. I’d prefer longer, but I hold out little hope for sense on that from you.”

As Aragorn gave Elrond a quick grin in reply, he noted Elrohir had looked away to hide his own smile. “Remember who had the raising of me?”

“Impudent child,” Elrond retorted. “This headstrong disregard for your own wellbeing can only be my sons’ influence on you.”

“You had the raising of _them_ also.”

“Even so!” Elrohir protested. “Your stubbornness is all your own.”

“Impudent children, the both of you.” Elrond smiled as he spoke, though he quickly turned serious again. “The search for Gollum will have to do without you until next year.”

“So be it.” Aragorn gave in. “What will you do now?”

“Pay a visit to your lady grandmother,” Elrond said. “She’s said before that she would not mind retiring to Imladris, and this is as good a time to talk about her plans as any.”

“How old is she now?” Elrohir asked Aragorn.

“Close to 150. She moved to Celonhad a few years ago. She said that after Dírhael’s death she couldn’t stand living in Caras Dirnen any longer. I knew she’d been thinking about Imladris. If my healer will allow it” – he cast a look at Elrohir – “I’d like to come with you. It’s only twenty miles, and it’s been some time since I’ve last seen her.”

“It is not a strenuous journey. I see no obstacle, as well you knew,” Elrohir said. “But do you think it wise to be away from Caras Dirnen at the moment?”

“It’d only be a few days. No one will begrudge Ivorwen a visit from her grandson. Also, it should be at least another week before there’s news from Mount Gram, so this is as good a time as any.” Aragorn did not miss the look that passed between Elrohir and Elrond. _Elrohir thinks I’ll overtax myself, but he’s willing to take the risk so the lesson sinks in before he leaves for Imladris._

“Very well,” Elrond said. “We’ll set out for Celonhad in the morning. One thing though, Estel…”

“Yes, Father?” Aragorn responded.

“You will have to speak with Halbarad this afternoon,” Elrond said. “You can only decide what to do with him after you’ve spoken with him.”

Aragorn nodded. “Of course.” _I know I have to, yet I am reluctant as well. It’s…I certainly don’t regret sparing him. With what Father found it would have been an injustice to do other than I did. Why then? Am I still bitter about his actions, or...?_

~*~

Once Aragorn had left, Elrohir turned to Elrond. _Aragorn is not the only one who needs to speak further with Halbarad. You passed over it quickly during the trial, but you should look at what else you can find of Halbarad’s first captor._

_I know, and I will, but those memories will be hard to retrieve, if it can be done at all._

_But you are still certain that he wasn’t brought before the Enemy himself?_ Elrohir gave him a worried look.

 _That I am certain of,_ Elrond answered. _I have some knowledge of what his mind would seem like._

=~*~=

_At times he thinks he feels the distant presence of the Enemy through his Ring. It is faint enough that it must be his imagination, his fear, playing him false, yet he still wonders if he should stop wearing Vilya on his hand. It should make little difference for what use he makes of it in the defence of Imladris, but he remembers too well the brilliant cold glitter of Annatar’s mind and how it became sharp shards like daggers sweeping Eregion to look for the few who had survived the fall of Ost-in-Edhil..._

_…many years later, in that grey land where the ashes from the volcano turn the air itself sharp as glass shards sometimes._ _The air is dry, the day dark and sombre. The volcanic dust gets in_ everywhere. _Even after seven years of siege it still…but there is a greater threat here, and it – or rather he – is moving towards them. Isildur stands nearby Elrond, and in front of them are only Elendil and Gil-galad. Elrond has his mind firmly closed to any attack – or so he hopes – yet he can still feel the cold sharp malice of Sauron’s thoughts sweep by, looking for any weakness in their defence._

=~*~=

Elrohir shuddered. _Of course_ , he replied. _Yet from what you showed me, this first captor was strong. Another Black Númenórean? Or one of the Nazgûl?_

_It is unlikely it was the latter. There was not a hint of the kind of fear the Nazgûl cause, or of the Black Breath. But as for the first, I cannot tell yet._

~*~

“I’ll have some work for you over the next few days if you don’t mind lending me a hand,” Bregor had said that morning when he took Halbarad back to his room after Master Elrond’s examination. “Not yet today, but I’ll send for you tomorrow morning.”

 _I’m still a prisoner,_ Halbarad thought as he looked around his room. _But how else could it be? Who would trust me, or even want me around? At least, as jailors go Bregor is someone who was a friend before. And that may make it better. Or worse._ He shook his head as he stepped forward to sit on his bed, then changed his mind and moved to the chair next to the small table against the other wall. _And here I am, with only my thoughts and Master Elrond’s exercises to occupy me._

He tentatively stretched out his arm and attempted to make a fist again. _Master Elrond said to stop any movement as soon as it hurts, and to not do too much in one day._ After all that Master Elrond had already made him do earlier, his arm did start to hurt soon, and he stopped after only a few attempts. _And that leaves me with just my thoughts._

Halbarad moved over to the bed and lay down. Sleep eluded him, and as he had done before, he found himself staring at the shadows of his candle playing along the ceiling. _Maybe_ _I should ask Bregor for an oil lamp. Not that there’s much to be seen._ Beside the bed he had a table and chair and a clothes chest. There were some empty shelves on the wall over the chest. The walls had been plastered, though not recently, as had the ceiling in between the oak beams that ran along it.

Eventually he was drawn out of his thoughts by a knock on the door and someone asking if he could come in. Before Halbarad had called out, the door opened, and Aragorn walked in.

Halbarad scrambled to his feet, resisting the urge to fall to his knees before his lord.

“Sir.” He forced himself to meet Aragorn’s gaze.

“Halbarad.”

Aragorn’s look at him was friendly, yet still searching, and again Halbarad wondered what he was looking for, or what he saw.

At last, Halbarad broke the silence. “Sir, please sit down.” He gestured towards the chair.

“I do have a name,” Aragorn said as he sat in the chair. Halbarad sat down on the edge of his bed when Aragorn nodded at him to do so.

“Sir?” _But I…I forfeited the right to use your name when I betrayed you._

“Or if you must, use my rank, if you can’t bring yourself to call me by name. You are still a Ranger after all.”

 _I am?_ “As you wish, Captain.” Halbarad looked up to see understanding in Aragorn’s face, and he quickly looked down again. _I don’t deserve your friendship, or your kindness. I never did._ He took a deep breath and before Aragorn could speak, he said what had been in the back of his mind since the tribunal. “You spared me. Why?”

Aragorn let out a slow breath and stared down at his hands for some time before looking at him again.

“All that you did… None of it was by your own will. You controlled neither your thoughts nor your hands. And without intent there is no treason.”

“Yet I still did these things.”

“Yes. You did.” Aragorn let out another sigh, and there was pity in the look he gave Halbarad.

 _No pity. Not after all I did. Not from you. Not after I nearly killed you_. Halbarad did not say it, though he suspected Aragorn knew anyway.

Aragorn looked ill at ease as he went on. “Without Master Elrond’s findings I _would_ have ruled differently.”

Now it was Halbarad’s turn to look down. _I still don’t know whether or not to be happy that I am alive._ “Would you have spared another in the same situation?” he asked abruptly.

“Yes.”

“I doubt that.”

Aragorn looked taken aback by his reply but nodded at him to go on.

“Why wasn’t I slain out of hand in the camp?” _As I should have been. As – to be honest – I’d hoped I would be._

“Had you not spoken Sindarin when you gave yourself up, you might well have been slain right there. Then, once you were recognised... That was hardly my doing.”

“Would you have sent for Master Elrond if it had been anyone else?”

Aragorn gave him a sharp look. “Master Elrond came for what you knew and for our fears over what you might have told the Enemy of that. I asked for his counsel, but I did not ask him to come to Caras Dirnen.”

Halbarad nodded. “Then another would have been tried and put to death in the camp. Had _I_ been tried in the camp, or taken to Caras Dirnen without Master Elrond there, I’d also have been slain.”

“You did say the _same_ situation.” Aragorn fell silent but went on again after some time. “Halbarad, if that is what you’re asking, I did not spare you or treat you gently for the sake of long friendship. If anything, at first, I was harsher with you than I might have been with another. But you weren’t slain, and so I – and you – have to think about what comes next.”

“I h-hadn’t given much thought to that yet,” Halbarad said.

“Neither had I,” Aragorn responded.

Halbarad gave Aragorn a searching look and found no trace of mockery in his expression. If anything, Aragorn looked almost embarrassed. Even so, Halbarad could not keep a lingering bitterness over not being _allowed_ to atone through death out of his response. “Captain. Even the Mouth found use in me, so if my service is what you want, say so. It is yours by right, though you have many better men to serve you.”

“That is not what I meant.” Now, Aragorn looked annoyed. “And you were always the best of men.”

“That man, the good man who was your friend, who served you faithfully? He might as well have died in truth. There is naught left of him in me.”

“If that were true, you would not have remembered, and you would not have come back.”

Halbarad looked down, his anger draining abruptly and leaving him empty. _You should have slain me._ He heard Aragorn stand up, but continued to look down, expecting to hear him leave. _I should not have spoken so to my lord._

Footsteps, but no door opening and falling shut.

Aragorn put a hand on Halbarad’s shoulder, and after a few moments sat down next to him. Halbarad drew a shuddering breath.

“For the next few days Bregor will…”

“…keep an eye on me?” Halbarad interrupted. “He mentioned it, yes.”

“You will come to see me or Bregor every morning. I’ll be away visiting Ivorwen with Elrond and Elrohir for about a week, so you start by reporting to Bregor,” Aragorn went on, unperturbed.

“Ivorwen? She lives yet? How old is she?” _I could probably work it out myself, but that she is even still alive I had not expected._ “And Dírhael?” he asked before Aragorn could answer his previous question.

“I was coming to that,” Aragorn replied. “Dírhael died a few years ago. Ivorwen moved to Celonhad soon after. She’s almost 150.”

“I am sorry to hear it,” Halbarad said. He wanted to say more, for Dírhael had been his great-uncle and Aragorn’s grandfather, but he was lost for words. He risked a glance at Aragorn, who appeared deep in thought. Halbarad sighed softly. _It is hardly surprising that people have died when I’ve been away for ten years, and yet… I wish I could have seen Dírhael_ _again, but I am also relieved that he did not find out what became of me, and that I do not have to justify myself before him._

**3013, May 3**

“Should I continue with the inventory of those ledgers?” Halbarad asked Bregor. “I think all the books on that shelf need to be recopied if they’re in as bad a state as the ones I looked at today.” _And as much as I value the history of the Dúnedain, do we really need to preserve the record of wool yields and taxes in Cardolan for the years 957 to 961?_

“No, tomorrow I need a few letters copied, and my scribe has fallen ill. I hope your writing is still legible?”

“I don’t know. Beyond a few messages and such – and those were in Cirth, not Tengwar – I don’t think I’ve written anything in the last ten years,” Halbarad said.

“I will see you tomorrow,” Bregor said.

As Halbarad entered the hallway to his room, there was someone standing near the door. He slowed down, wary, then came to an abrupt stop.

“Dineth.”

“I was told I could find you here.”

He nodded, struck dumb by the sight of her.

When he had first remembered her, he could not even bring her face to mind. Then, when she came to see him in his cell the room had been too dim, lit only by a few candles, and in the great hall he could not really look around, but now he finally saw her properly once more.

There were lines in her face and grey in her hair that he did not recall, but he still saw in mind the smile that had long ago caught his attention. She did not smile now. Her gaze was cool and stern, but above all _distant_. _And that hurts more than if I had seen hatred in her face._

“I brought you some things you might want.” She gestured at a basket next to the door.

“Thank you.”

“I heard you were helping the seneschal.”

“Yes.” _Yes…_ He tried to think of anything to say. _She won’t want to hear again how sorry I am for murdering her brother. That Halmir looks to have grown into a fine young man, then? ‘Oh, by the way, when I was in chains, I saw our son who may be dying in battle as we speak.’ Perhaps I should ask her to tell me more about how much my other son, whom I didn’t know about until about a week ago, hates me._

Dineth shuffled her feet and looked away. _She doesn’t know what to say either_. _And we_ always _could talk…_

He looked down, then took a deep breath and met her eyes again. “I’m sorry I put you through believing me dead, that I left you alone for ten years.” _That I forgot you._

“I am glad you’re not dead. That you’re not a traitor.” She gave him a wistful smile. “Well, I’d best be going.”

“Thank you for coming by.” He watched until she had turned the corner before opening the door and entering his room. As he reached to close the door again, he remembered the basket and took it inside.

 _I wonder what she brought._ The first thing he found was a pale green linen shirt, finer than any of the ones Bregor had found for him. She had been working on it when he left. He put it aside – _I’ll put it in the clothes chest later_ – and looked further.

Two pairs of socks and some old and oft-mended smallclothes. A set of leatherworking tools and sewing needles in a box. _My old spares._ A leather holder for a spoon and knife – old, but in decent condition. He snorted. _Not that I have a spoon to put in it._ A dented pewter mug. _I had meant to have that repaired or remade before I left for the last time._

_These are my things she kept over the years. Anything that was useful probably went to Halmir when he became a Ranger. Not that I begrudge him any of it, though this is all I possess now. Yet for her to return it to me?_

Halbarad did not know whether to cry or to just shake his head.

**3013, May 5**

“You’re looking better,” Elrond told Halbarad. _No longer half-starved. I’d wish the haunted look had gone as well, but that, I fear, will be a longer road._ “Take off your shirt and let me look at your arm. Have you been doing your exercises?”

“Yes, Master Elrond,” Halbarad replied.

“Any pain?”

“At first, yes, but I did as you said and stopped when it hurt. It seems slow going, though I can already do a bit more than at first.”

“It’s not even been a month since it was broken.” Elrond carefully probed around the break. “And yes, it _is_ slow going, but overdoing it now will set you back later.”

“I have been wounded before. I know.”

“Stretch your arm and make a fist,” Elrond instructed him, adding as Halbarad obeyed, “And of course you have always listened to your healer.”

A hint of a sheepish grin passed over Halbarad’s face.

“That’s what I thought,” Elrond muttered. “You have been helping Bregor?”

“Just some odd jobs. It’s better than sitting in my room all day.”

“And have you given thought to the future yet? Is this what you want to do?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. Not after…”

“Would I ask you in that case? What would you do?”

Halbarad was silent for a long time. “I…if there were no, no… I’d want to make amends, to atone in some way for what I did.” _To avenge myself on the Mouth for what he made me do._

“But?” Elrond prompted him gently.

“I... There is naught I can do or say that will ever serve to atone for the evil I did. You know that it is not by my wish that I am even alive to speak to you.”

“And your death would have been enough?”

“No,” Halbarad admitted. “Nothing would have been.”

“Though none of what you did was willed by you? Though you no more could have refused what you were made to do than this splint could refuse being set against your arm?” Elrond retied the strips of linen that held the splint against Halbarad’s arm as he spoke.

“Yet I remember doing it.” Again, Halbarad looked down and fell silent. Elrond felt him trying to close his mind as best he could. After a while he looked up to briefly meet Elrond’s gaze. “But it’s not just that. I also remember how it felt, and though I am sickened now by the things I did, I was not only capable of doing them, but I…I took pleasure in what I did. What if the monster, the _Orc,_ I became isn’t gone?” _What if that is who I really am?_

 _I don’t think I was meant to hear that last part,_ Elrond thought as he put his hands on Halbarad’s shoulders. “Look at me. I do not believe that. I _know_ what was done to you. What the Mouth did to you. You did not have enough of yourself left to be able to disobey. And each time you regained any part of yourself, the Mouth could only make you obey by removing it again, by locking it away and building walls.”

Halbarad shuddered at the mention of the wall in his head. “I…”

“Perhaps this is a question you cannot answer yet, but if you could choose freely, without any other consideration? What would you wish to do?”

Halbarad looked down and bit his lip, but he answered quicker than he had before. “If I c…I would serve my lord again, if there were aught left in me that he might find worthy. But what good is a weakling who fell for the Enemy’s deceits, who submitted to torture, who let himself be turned into an oath breaker, a traitor?”

“It is not weakness to be defeated by greater strength, yet you continued to resist, long past what many might have endured, even when you didn’t know it.”

Halbarad sighed. “I suppose so, Master Elrond.”

“I _know_ so. Now, I’ll be returning to Imladris tomorrow, so I’ll pass on my care for you to Aragorn,” Elrond said, quickly adding at Halbarad’s uncertain look. “He offered it himself.”

“He shouldn’t waste his time on me. It’s only a broken arm. Any healer can take care of that.”

“That, I’ll leave between you and him,” Elrond said. _And I think Estel is more stubbornly determined to see you well – and not just your arm – than you are to refuse his help._ “One last thing, know that you are ever welcome to visit Imladris.”

**3013, May 10**

Bregor was looking out the window when Halbarad came in. When Halbarad joined him, he saw two Rangers in the courtyard. They had just dismounted and now led their horses into the stables, a lone stable boy trailing behind them.

“Messengers,” Bregor said.

“From Mount Gram?” Halbarad wondered out loud.

“Likely enough, but I am no mind reader.”

“That was not what I meant.”

“I know,” Bregor replied. “And neither of us is going to find out by staring at an empty courtyard. Why don’t you go eat your breakfast? I’ll be gone for a while, and I’ll let you know what I have to do for you today a bit later.”

As Halbarad sat down to eat, he secretly hoped that there would be nothing to do again today. The two previous days Bregor and Aragorn had both been busy with settling Lady Ivorwen in the cottage that Aragorn had inherited from his mother, and he had occupied himself with some books from Bregor’s collection. _Not that Ivorwen is staying in Caras Dirnen for long._ Bregor had told Halbarad that she would travel on to Rivendell in another month or so.

 _It must be strange for her to live in what was her daughter’s home, even if it’s only for a short time – I don’t think Aragorn will have made many changes to it in the years it has been his. But Rivendell… I understand why she wants to retire there rather than stay in Celonhad or Caras Dirnen._ He shook his head and bit into a slice of dried apple. _I wonder… no, Master Elrond only made his offer out of politeness. At least between my own room and Bregor’s office this is better than my previous cell. And once my arm has healed, I’ll be able to put in a real day’s work rather than moving paper around. Maybe Bregor can find some farmer or craftsman who isn’t too particular about who works for him, and then Aragorn won’t have a constant reminder of his friend of old underfoot when he’s in Caras Dirnen._

Bregor was not yet back by the time Halbarad had finished his meal, so he got the book he had been reading the previous day, a collection of travellers' tales from Gondor and further south. _I’d not believe the oliphaunt truly exists if Aragorn hadn’t once told me he’d seen one_.

The morning was already mostly gone when Bregor came back.

“The Captain wants to see you in his office,” he greeted Halbarad.

“Did he say why?” Halbarad put down the book. _Oh, please, no… those messengers. Halmir!_

~*~

Halbarad had come rushing in, not even knocking before he entered.

“Sir?” A brief pause. “The two Rangers I saw this morning in the courtyard, were they messengers from Mount Gram?”

 _What? Oh, of course…_ “Halmir is fine.”

Halbarad breathed a sigh of relief, then asked, “Losses?”

 _And he still can read me too well._ “Six Rangers, two Elves. Ten men wounded badly enough to be on the list the healer sent me.”

Halbarad looked away.

“Halbarad, you know none of this is your fault?”

“So you keep telling me.”

 _And I will keep doing so until you believe it._ Aragorn sighed. “That is not why I called you here though.”

Halbarad immediately looked anxious again.

“Dineth came to see me this morning.”

Halbarad started to open his mouth, but he closed it again and said nothing.

 _I’m not doing him any kindness by dragging it out._ “She asked what your return means, whether it makes her a wife again, or whether she is still seen as a widow.”

“What did you say to that?”

“That there is no precedent within Dúnedainlaw. A Ranger who is missing is considered dead after five years, but we had been certain already that you were dead,” Aragorn said.

“Then…” Halbarad looked pensive. “What are we?”

“I’m not sure,” Aragorn admitted. “The Statute of Míriel and Finwë hardly applies to Mortals—” Halbarad snorted at that. “—nor were you dead, except for the law.”

Halbarad took a deep breath. “I…Last week she came to see me and gave me my old things that she had kept.” He went on with more certainty. “If she wishes to be free of me, I can well understand that. If that is what she wants, I will release her from her vow without making any claim on our sons or our property.”

Aragorn shook his head, gaining a surprised look from Halbarad. “For now, she only wants a separation. She says she needs time to think, and she needs to consider Haldan.”

Halbarad looked wretched as he replied. “I’ll go by her wishes.”

When Halbarad had left, Aragorn let out a sigh. _I understand Dineth’s position, but it couldn’t come at a worse time for Halbarad. At least, despite the losses, the attack on Mount Gram was a success. Another week or so for them to hunt down any stray Orcs. Now, though…_

Reluctantly, Aragorn took a blank sheet of paper and started to write the first of six letters. _I regret to inform you… There should be a better way to tell someone their father, brother, son, husband isn’t coming home._ He stood up and walked over to the window, opening it just a crack to let in some fresh air.

As he turned to head back to his desk, there was a rapid knock on the door.

“Who is there?” _I’ll get nothing done like this…_

“Imlach, sir.”

Bregor’s assistant would not disturb him without reason. “Come in.”

The door opened. “Sir, please come quickly! It’s Halbarad!”

 _Halbarad! What did he…?_ “What is it?” he asked as he followed Imlach who rushed up the stairs and into the hallway that led to Bregor’s quarters.

“We found him…” Imlach panted. “Stopped them.”

“Stopped whom?”

Further along the hallway there was a small cluster of Rangers and Bregor’s staff both.

“Make way for the Captain,” Imlach called. As the men gave way, Aragorn saw Bregor crouching down next to Halbarad, who was sitting leaning against the wall, but with his head down.

“Bregor, what happened?” Aragorn quickly crouched down on Halbarad’s other side. He could not hold back a gasp when he saw Halbarad’s face. _Blood makes everything look worse, but…_

“Imlach, clear the hallway,” Bregor called to his assistant before answering Aragorn. “The two of us came around the corner there, and saw four men, Rangers by their clothes, kicking at him as he lay on the ground. They had masked their faces and ran as soon as I shouted at them.”

“Imlach, find out who was on duty this morning and if they were where they were supposed to be.” Aragorn turned his attention back to Halbarad.

He was conscious, but dazed, and mumbled incoherently when Aragorn spoke his name.

“Can you walk?” Aragorn asked, then immediately turned to Bregor. “Give me a hand getting him on his feet. We’ll take him to the healer’s rooms.”

Halbarad grunted in pain as they hauled him up to stand. _Broken or bruised ribs,_ Aragorn thought as he and Bregor half-pushed, half-carried Halbarad to the healer’s rooms. Ciriondil was away, but he would not object to Aragorn using his tools and supplies.

They nudged Halbarad towards the healer’s chair and got him to sit down and lean back. “Bregor, is there hot water in the kettle over the fire? I want to clean him up a bit first.”

As soon as Bregor brought him the water, Aragorn started cleaning the blood from Halbarad’s face and head. At first Halbarad barely reacted, but after a short while he seemed to regain some awareness of his environs and started to flinch from Aragorn’s touch. _Which is good, as it means they didn’t hit his head too hard, but it makes my work harder as well._

“Halbarad, what happened?” Aragorn asked. There was a wound under Halbarad’s hair that was still bleeding and would need stitches, but the bones underneath appeared undamaged, and Halbarad’s eyes had responded normally to the candle flame he had used to look at them. He would still end up with a black eye, and the skin over his right cheekbone had split and would also need stitches. _The bone itself isn’t broken though, and he’s bitten his tongue, but his teeth and his nose are fine._

“I’m not sure,” Halbarad said slowly. “They hit me over the head? Who? Up to just now, it’s…”

“What do you remember from today?”

“You… summoned me, and… Dineth…” Halbarad moved to turn his head, then flinched and sat still. “Messengers… from Mount Gram…”

Aragorn nodded. _His memory seems unharmed, except for the attack itself, and he’s talking. But on with the exam!_ __

“I’m going to look at your ribs and your arm,” Aragorn said. “Raise your arms so I can take off your shirt.”

Halbarad hissed in pain as he attempted to raise his arms, and Aragorn stopped him.

“Lean forward instead.” As Halbarad obeyed, Aragorn quickly cut open the bloodied shirt. _He isn’t short of breath or coughing blood, so that is good._

Dark bruises were already starting to show on Halbarad’s back and front both, and he flinched when Aragorn touched them. “Your ribs seem bruised rather than broken. Can you hold out your left arm?” There was a bruise forming near Halbarad’s elbow, and one strip of the splint over his upper arm had broken and splintered, but Aragorn could feel no further damage to the area of the break.

“Bregor, I need a new splint, and some large bandages to strap up his ribs.” Aragorn turned back to Halbarad. “Please take off your trousers. I need to see your legs as well.”

There were more bruises forming along Halbarad’s legs, but nothing that required stitches, so Aragorn resplinted Halbarad’s arm and set to work on his ribs and on stitching the wounds that needed it. Apart from the occasional wince or grunt of pain, Halbarad sat silently while Aragorn worked. Bregor stood by to hand Aragorn anything he might need.

“Can you have a cot set up in my room?” Aragorn asked Bregor once he was done. “I’ll need to keep an eye on his head wound tonight.”

“Of course,” Bregor said. “I’d set a guard, but until Imlach brings us a list, we can trust very few men.”

“I’m guard enough.” _And if they try again, may the Valar have mercy on them._

Aragorn went through Ciriondil’s supplies until he found some dried poppy. “Ah, here… Bregor, is there any water left?” _Not that I’ll give him any poppy before tomorrow, not with that head wound._

Bregor looked and grabbed the kettle. “I’ll go get some, captain.”

Aragorn sat down to wait until Bregor returned, keeping his eyes firmly on Halbarad. _Luckily his injuries don’t appear to be too serious. And thus the question of what to do with him has abruptly become urgent, and I fear I know the answer._

Halbarad was still sitting in the healer’s chair, huddled in on himself, staring at the ground. “Sir?” he said after a while. “Thank you for caring for my wounds. But I…you don’t need to… I’ll be fine.”

“Fine?” Aragorn snorted. “Until the next time you run into the wrong men at the wrong time.” _I don’t even know yet who did this, yet their reason is all too easy to guess with the news of the losses at Mount Gram so fresh._

Halbarad attempted a shrug.

“Don’t you dare say you deserved it,” Aragorn snapped. “Whatever you think you deserve or not, I’m certain you didn’t come back to be beaten to death or to end up with a knife in your back in some alley.”

“You cannot protect me forever, and their anger is justified.”

“But aimed at the wrong target, even if you won’t see it.”

“If you say so…” Halbarad’s shoulders slumped even further.

Aragorn stood up, abruptly too restless to remain seated. “If you stay here… You are right, I cannot keep you safe.” He sighed, and Halbarad looked up to meet his gaze.

“Exile, then?”

“Not exile. Rivendell.” _It’s a narrow point to argue though, and I can already hear what Hatholdir will have to say at the next meeting of the Council._

Halbarad looked utterly forlorn. “It’s still exile, but if you think it’s for the best I will go.”


	11. Chapter 11

**3013, May 13**

“My lord?”

“What is it, Bregor?” Aragorn had been looking out the window but turned around as the seneschal spoke.

“Magol here has something to tell you.” The young man with Bregor already looked ill at ease, but when Aragorn looked at him, he seemed as if he might faint.

“Captain, I…” Magol looked down and swallowed hard. “I was one of…I beat up the tr…Ha…” He glanced up at Aragorn and immediately looked away again, the rest of his words ending up as a rushed mumble.

Bregor nudged Magol. “Say it so we can hear you.”

“I, I’m sorry, sir.” He did not quite look at Aragorn as he went on. “I was one of the…I confronted Halbarad.”

“You attacked him, you mean,” Bregor interjected.

“If you say s…yes.” Magol still looked away.

“Bregor,” Aragorn said. “Did he come to you himself?”

“Yes, my lord,” the seneschal confirmed.

“Why?” Aragorn next asked Magol.

“Why I went to the seneschal, sir?” At Aragorn’s sharp nod, Magol went on.

“Bec…you said that if we came forward, we would be dealt with less harshly… Sir, please, don’t dismiss me from the Rangers?”

“I have not yet decided on punishments. When I do, I will remember that you did come forward yourself.” Aragorn looked at him sternly, then exchanged a quick glance with Bregor. “And why did you do it?”

“I…we…when we heard about the Rangers who’d died at Mount Gram, and we saw the man who was to blame walking around as if he’d done nothing wrong, we…”

“…took it upon yourselves to punish him, even though I had ruled differently?”

“No… or… yes, sir, but…”

“Enough,” Aragorn said sharply. “For now, you are relieved of your duties and confined to the Keep. I will not judge your case until your fellows have come forward also. I will speak to your captain to decide what is to be done with you in the meantime.”

**3013, May 19**

_I need to spend some time outside Caras Dirnen, even if it’s just for a ride_ , Aragorn thought as he walked to the stables. _Except for visiting grandmother Ivorwen I’ve barely been outside the Keep, let alone the town, in the last month_.

“Captain! I’ve been wanting to speak to you.”

“Saeros. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, sir. It’s been a while.” Saeros stepped aside with an abrupt gesture at someone standing behind him, adding “My grandson you know as well.”

“Indeed,” Aragorn replied, giving Magol a cool look.

“You may wonder why I’ve come to see you,” Saeros said. “Or you already suspect it involves young Magol here…”

_It’d be unlike Saeros, but I do hope he’s not about to tell me Magol’s a good lad and not to be harsh on him, or how it would break his old heart to see him dismissed from the Rangers_ , Aragorn thought with rising dread, but he smiled and gave the older man an encouraging nod. _I could tell him to see me later, but courtesy demands that I hear him out_.

“I won’t delay you too long,” Saeros said, “but I do want a word with you.”

“Of course.”

Saeros gestured at some straw bales in front of the stables. “We can sit over there if you don’t mind, Captain. Or Chieftain, I guess.” He shrugged and smiled. “After all, I haven’t been a Ranger for longer than that one” – he indicated Magol – “has been alive.”

“You were never shy about using my name before, and we’re inside the Angle,” Aragorn said as he sat down on one of the straw bales. Magol remained standing after a sharp look from Saeros.

“Now,” Saeros began after fussing around with another bale until it must have seemed suitably comfortable to sit on. “As I said, it’s been a while since I’ve been a Ranger, but I still remember my very first patrol. It was the year of the Fell Winter, and we set out in October. Your grandfather was our captain, and I was one of two recruits. We were near Sarn Ford – we lost half the patrol in the end, the winter was that harsh. Captain Arador ended up having to hang the other recruit for stealing food and causing the deaths of several of our fellows.”

“I’m not sure what…” _Is he saying I should have hanged Halbarad_?

Saeros snorted and gave Aragorn a shrewd look. “Well,” he went on slowly, “that might be a bit harsh in this case, but I’d not mind if you dismiss the brat from the Rangers.”

Aragorn blinked in surprise, while there was a muffled sound of protest from Magol.

Saeros turned to Magol. “What’d you think I’d say, young fool? Had any of you landed a kick in the wrong place, it would have been murder, and the Captain would’ve had no choice but to hang you. All of you. And I’d have handed him the rope.”

The old man looked back at Aragorn. “Captain, I patrolled with Halladan for many years, and a few times with his son also. The Halbarad I knew was a true and good man. I have no reason to believe that changed despite what he went through. And you can tell him I said that too.”

**3013, June 20**

_At last…_ For all that it stillfelt as if he was being sent into exile – _or that I’m running away, giving up_ – it was a relief to finally go. _Not that we’re going anywhere just yet._

Halbarad looked surreptitiously at the people who had come to see them off – _to see off Ivorwen, but a few might want to gawk at the traitor also._ No one had spoken to him so far, just people wishing Ivorwen a good journey. Aragorn had known what he was doing by setting a dawn start.

The previous day Halbarad had been up early as well, even earlier than today. He had been relieved when he remembered that had _always_ been his way, not a habit left over from running with daylight-hating Orcs and ending up with all the day watches. He had reckoned that there would be few enough people about that he could wander around Caras Dirnen undisturbed one last time. It had been good to have the chance to – he snorted inwardly – say farewell to his home. _And yet, for all that I’ve spent more time in the Wild than here over the years, this_ is _home. Or it_ was _._

He had first gone to the archery field followed by a quick turn through the town to what had been his parents’ house, and then the graveyard. Many of his kin of old lay there – except, as signified by white stones like the one for Halladan near his mother’s grave, those who had been Rangers lost in the Wild. _Father and most of my ancestors would undoubtedly disown me if they could, but I still should come here before I go._

As Halbarad had turned to look at little Haleth’s grave, he noticed a long, shallow depression in the ground alongside, as if a hole had been dug and filled in again. _For me. That would have been mine_. He abruptly turned away and stood staring into the distance for a long time. Only as he turned to go, did he notice the fresh flowers next to his daughter’s headstone. _Has Dineth been here too_?

=~*~=

Halbarad emerged from his thoughts and looked around again. The group was complete by now and most lookers-on had gone. Part of him was disappointed that Dineth had not come, as much as he had known she would not. _Even_ before _, she never liked a public send-off, and to do so now – even if only to make sure I’m really going – would draw unwanted attention to the_ traitor’s wife _._ _But with me no longer here, the taint will wear off soon enough. She’s liked well enough in the town. Or she used to be._

_An early start won’t make a difference for the journey as a whole – it’ll be slow going, but as safe as it can be with Aragorn and the Elves as outriders. And the Road’s been quiet for weeks from what I heard. I’m just uneasy because I’m unarmed._ For all that Aragorn had declared him innocent of wrongdoing, and for the few Rangers who had come to tell him that they supported him, that they were on his side – _I have no side,_ he had told them – for all of that, he apparently could not ride out of Caras Dirnen bearing even a borrowed sword. _And I’m not sure I should be trusted with a weapon. At least Ivorwen’s things will be sent separately, so we won’t have to deal with guarding packhorses as well. We’ll still be lucky to make it to Rivendell before Mid-year’s Day. Yet no matter how slow we may be, being out on the road in the sunlight again when a month ago I thought I’d faced the last of my days… Maybe I shouldn’t, but part of me will find joy in that._

There were ten people in their party – five Elves sent by Elrond as an escort, one of them a woman who would serve as Ivorwen’s companion during the journey, for her old servant had no wish to come to Rivendell with her. Two Rangers who were joining the men guarding the High Pass. Ivorwen herself. Aragorn would also come with them – he was mounted on a restive young horse that the Elves had brought from Rivendell, and which Halbarad had heard someone say was a gift from Lady Arwen. And then there was him.

_My horse is a loan from the Keep’s messengers’ horses and will be taken back here. And my gear… I had nothing when I came here, and I still have all of that. If it wasn’t for Bregor loaning me what I need for the journey, I’d have a dented mug, some socks, and a too-fine linen shirt to my name._

Halbarad was startled out of his thoughts by Aragorn coming up beside him. _Or trying to…_ Aragorn’s horse was prancing and trying to back away from anything Aragorn directed him toward.

“Not that he doesn’t look worth the effort,” Halbarad remarked with an admiring look at the animal, “but he seems like more than a handful.”

“I’d noticed,” Aragorn said drily when the horse at last stood still. “He’s young enough yet that he likes to play, but he’ll settle down properly once we are on our way.” He reached across to one of his saddlebags, and Halbarad’s eyes widened when he saw the sword belt Aragorn handed him.

“The sword is better than its wrappings suggest,” Aragorn said hastily, casting an apologetic glance at the scuffed leather scabbard and belt.

“That’s not…,” Halbarad started, then explained, “I didn’t think you would let me bear a weapon at all.”

“But you are still a Ranger and I your captain.”

“I won’t forget it, sir,” Halbarad replied, and moved his hand to where his star had once been. _He’s said it before. Yet I am an oath breaker and by rights should have been cast out from the Rangers even after my life was spared_. _And I may not be at ease going into the Wild unarmed, but I’m as uneasy at being given trust I know I don’t deserve._

“My trust is not given lightly,” Aragorn said, smiling. “Nor is my friendship.” His smile faded quickly and was replaced by a look of worry when Halbarad failed to return it.

_And once more I give him naught but pain. It_ is _better that I’m going into exile._

**3013, June 24**

A few days into the journey, Ivorwen, who had dismounted to walk for a while, waved Halbarad over to walk beside her. “So, young man, it would seem that we grieved for you too soon when you disappeared.”

Halbarad looked down. “I am sorry, lady Ivorwen.”

“For what? Being alive?” She shrugged and gave him a sideways look. Her eyes had faded to a watery blue from the flinty grey he remembered, but her gaze was still keen enough. “Oh, I _have_ heard what happened to you and how you came back to us. And ‘Lady’? I used to be ‘aunt’.” She shook her head. “No, _I_ am sorry. I should have thought before I spoke. And not that you haven’t been told before – but why would you believe your old great-aunt Ivorwen when you won’t listen to anyone else – none of what you did was done by your choice, or even within your awareness.”

“I know.” _And yet._

“Then at least _attempt_ to believe it.”

“Yes, aunt Ivorwen.”

**3013, June 27**

They had stopped early the previous day, a few miles from the Ford. The descent into Rivendell’s valley would be exhausting for Ivorwen even after a night’s rest and there was no need to press on and make the descent in the dark.

Halbarad was relieved at how easy their journey had been, yet he could not suppress a feeling of unease either. _But is it that I know not to take anything for granted in the Wild, even on the road to Rivendell, or am I uneasy about what lies ahead?_

The sun was well above the horizon by the time the river came into view. Normally, Halbarad would have been annoyed at the delays in getting underway, but this morning they had been almost welcome. He had to restrain himself from scratching at the suddenly itchy spot between his shoulders as his horse stepped into the water. _The sentries here wouldn’t slay me unchallenged, but what if I am barred from going on, from entering Rivendell? What if Master Elrond regrets his offer?_

Baseless as he knew his fear to be, Halbarad still heaved a sigh of relief once they had crossed the Ford without challenge. For the next few hours as they followed the path leading towards the edge of Rivendell, he resolutely ignored Aragorn’s worried glances and Ivorwen’s curious ones. After that, the descent into the valley left little room for distraction. Eventually they reached the valley floor, and it was Ivorwen’s turn for a sigh of relief as they remounted their horses and rode on towards the Last Homely House.

Once they had crossed the final bridge, Aragorn helped Ivorwen to dismount and they went towards the house, while the others turned towards the stables. Halbarad had already started on the path towards the stables when Aragorn called him back. He too was to come to the house with them.

When Halbarad hesitated, one of the Elves, Galdir, nudged him. “Go with your captain. We’ll take care of your horse along with his.”

As they headed for the house, Halbarad wondered at how his memory of Rivendell had come back. In Caras Dirnen he had not remembered much detail, yet now he found it as familiar as if he had barely been away. _How much more is there that I can’t yet remember? Yet I still feel as if I should not be here at all, that I don’t deserve to be._

~*~

“Come in,” Elrond called. He was standing near the door to the balcony, and turned as Aragorn walked in. Both spoke at the same time.

“Lady Ivorwen is resting after I showed her to her rooms.”

“I’ve taken Halbarad to his room.”

Elrond smiled as Aragorn nodded at him to speak first. “Your grandmother appears in excellent health for her age. She said she’ll rest tonight and begin exploring Imladris in the next few days, and she agreed to let one of the healers who has experience with age in Men examine her.”

“She made sure she didn’t overexert herself on the journey here,” Aragorn said. _As frustrating as that sometimes was to those of us used to travelling at greater speed._

“Good. I am certain that, whether she will be here for one year or for twenty, we can make her stay pleasant.” Elrond walked over to the chairs that were arranged near the fireplace and sat down. “Halbarad, though. From what you said, he seems ill at ease still.”

Aragorn too sat down. “He continues to hold himself to blame for all he did while under the Mouth’s control, despite–“

“–you telling him he isn’t?” Elrond finished his sentence.

“I know I can’t make him believe it.” Aragorn sighed. “Yet he wouldn’t be who he is if he had just shrugged off what he…what the Mouth did through him.”

“That, I fear, is true,” Elrond said. “I cannot promise that he will ever be fully healed, only that I will help him to be as well as he can be.”

“I know.” Aragorn had to look away from Elrond’s look of pity and understanding. _And now I sound just like Halbarad after I tell him he isn’t to blame for what he did_.

“In your latest message you mentioned that one of Halbarad’s attackers had come forward. What happened after that?”

“After Magol confessed, the next young hothead turned himself in the following day.” Aragorn shook his head. “Hunthor. Another I had high hopes for.”

Elrond nodded. “What was his reasoning?”

“Like Magol, blaming Halbarad for the deaths at Mount Gram, anger at what he saw as too lenient a sentence, and an inability to resist his peers’ rash plots. Bregor then confronted one of the recruits, whom he suspected of being involved, and the lad admitted it rapidly.”

“And the last one?”

“Balan. He was named by Magol when he didn’t come forward after a few more days. Also one of the younger men, and already known as a bit of a troublemaker – but a smooth talker. These four weren’t the only ones who disagreed with my ruling – though quite a few Rangers have spoken up that they agree with it as well – but Balan persuaded the others to do more than complain about it.” Aragorn shook his head.

“How were they punished?” Elrond asked.

“That decision fell to their captains. Balan was dismissed from the Rangers, as this wasn’t his first offense. The recruit, Ulbar, decided an apprenticeship in his father’s smithy was preferable to spending another year or more as a recruit and resigned, and Magol and Hunthor have both accepted loss of rank and are serving again as recruits before maybe regaining their Star.”

~*~

The room that Aragorn had left Halbarad in was at least twice as big as his room in the Keep. _Though to be fair, Bregor did offer me another room after the first day._ _I was just too stubborn to take anything that I didn’t deserve._ Halbarad shrugged. _I deserve a room like this even less, but Master Elrond won’t be persuaded as Bregor was – besides, even the meanest storage room in Rivendell would likely still be too good._

_It’s almost two rooms, with that screen between the bed and the sitting area._ In a corner of the bedroom there was a sink with a towel next to it. Halbarad turned to sit down on the bed so he could take off his boots more easily, but quickly reconsidered when he saw the white linen covers. _I’d better clean myself up a bit before I touch anything in here._ His saddlebags had already been brought to the room, and there should still be a clean shirt in them, and trousers that might pass muster.

Some awkward hopping around later he had at last taken off his boots and socks. While he hesitated between first cleaning himself up or unpacking his bags so he would have something clean to put on, there was a knock on the door.

After he called “Enter!”, Master Elrond came in.

“Master Elrond!” Halbarad gestured at himself. “I am sorry I still look like–“

“–You’ve been on the road for a week?” Elrond smiled. “Do not worry about it. Nor are you the only one today. I sent Estel off to sort himself out just now, and most of the others in your party headed straight for the baths.”

“Maybe I will too once I finish unpacking,” Halbarad said.

“It will do you good,” Elrond replied. “Oh, and there are some clothes that should fit you in the cupboard over there. Let one of the servants know if they don’t fit and they will be changed for you.”

“But I did bring clothes.” _One spare pair of trousers and two shirts, only one of which is clean right now._

“All the better. You’ll have more to choose from.”

“I don’t…I don’t deserve any of this. Clothes, this room.” _Even if he dismisses my worries, I have to mention it._

“Of course you do. You are a guest here, and my guests do not dwell in dark storage rooms or worry about anything within my power to provide.”

Halbarad bowed his head in thanks. “Then I thank you, Master Elrond.” He glanced up at the carvings that decorated the ceiling. “At least I won’t have to wonder where I am when I wake up.”

Elrond gave him a searching look. “Has your sleep been troubled?”

Halbarad shrugged. “Some dreams. Nothing to–“

“I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me.”

“Yes, Master Elrond.” He looked down to gather his thoughts. “It’s…It’s mostly just one dream. It begins with the trial. The Captain declares me guilty–“. He glanced at Elrond, but the other’s expression betrayed nothing. “The guards take me outside to the scaffold. There are usually a few words exchanged between Aragorn and me as I kneel before him. And then, as he brings down the blade, he turns into the Mouth and I wake up."

Halbarad shivered. Even so brief a retelling was enough to bring back the fear that took him when he woke up from the dream.

“That is the dream you have most often?” As Halbarad nodded, Elrond asked. “What are the others?”

“Reliving what I did while…while the Mouth had me. Killings, torturing prisoners, battles against those who opposed the Enemy, raiding villages… except I remember who I am and _still_ do these things. Or I…” He looked down and drew a shuddering breath. “I…recognise Ar…the Captain when I stab him, and he dies while I look on.”

“I would ask if you told Aragorn about not sleeping well and about your dreams, but I fear I know the answer,” Master Elrond said.

Halbarad tried to avoid Master Elrond’s gaze.

“As I thought. You do know that you could have gone to him with this?”

Halbarad attempted a shrug. “I expected I would have bad dreams after all that… happened. I didn’t think I should bother him over something that small.”

Elrond sighed and shook his head. “You will tell me if you have bad dreams again.”

“Yes, Master Elrond.”

“Also, I want to start training you in closing your mind. If you fear the Mouth can reach out to you–“

Halbarad drew in a sharp breath. _I hadn’t even admitted that to myself, but_ …

“–I can reassure you. Even if he can speak to you in mind when standing in the same room, I deem he cannot do so across the miles. Also, Imladris is protected in many ways.”

Halbarad nodded. “And the Mouth’s wall in my mind? Is there aught to be done about that?” _I hate and dread that wall, and I’d just as lief never touch it again, but I want it OUT of my head. I can almost feel it, as much as I know that it’s not a real wall_.

“I can look at it again,” Elrond said, “but alas, I doubt I can do more about it.”

Halbarad nodded hesitantly. “So be it, but if there is anything you might try?”

“If there is, I will tell you, but for now I am more concerned that you learn how to close your thoughts.”

“You were reading them?”

“Not intentionally, but you are as good as shouting them at me.”

“So anyone here could have seen my thoughts?”

“No. But the Mouth trained you to open your mind to him always, and after you let me into your thoughts it seems that you are now unable to fully close them to me.”

Halbarad looked down for some time. _I don’t want to face the Mouth, but should that come to pass nonetheless…_ “If you can help me with that, I would...”

“I will be glad to. I trust you didn’t neglect your arm or the injuries from the attack on you.”

Halbarad snorted, glad for the change of subject. “I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to. Both Aragorn and Bregor made sure of it.”

“So how is your arm?”

“It sometimes hurts still if I use it a lot, but it’s getting stronger. I can move it without trouble, and I’ve been doing the exercises I’ve been set. My other injuries have healed as well, though my ribs still hurt a bit if I bend or twist around.”

“All that is as I would expect. If you’ve been using the arm more, have you started with weapons practice yet?”

“No.” At Elrond’s questioning look, Halbarad explained further, looking down as he did so. “Back h…back in Caras Dirnen it would have been impossible. For me to bear a blade would have angered the Council and upset the townspeople, even if any Rangers there had been willing to spar with me.”

“From what I heard from Aragorn, some of them would have been,” Elrond said.

“Perhaps. But even on the way here the Rangers in our group did not trust me to stand guard. It took an order from Aragorn and much grumbling from them before they accepted it.” He had not heard what Aragorn had said, but his expression would have quelled any protests he himself might have made in the old days. After that the Rangers had mostly ignored him, to his relief. “And I feel torn between never wanting to touch again the weapons with which I did so much evil and wanting to rush out and take revenge on any of the Enemy’s servants that cross my path.” He risked a glance at Elrond.

After a brief pause Elrond replied. “Then we’ll talk about that later. For now, the only task I lay on you – and one I trust you won’t find too hard – is to make yourself at home in Rivendell. After you have refreshed yourself, at the next bell you are welcome to come down to the hall for dinner. There will be a welcome feast for you and Lady Ivorwen on Midyear’s Day.”

**3013, Midyear’s Day**

_Master Elrond’s done well to welcome us as part of today’s festivities rather than having a separate feast,_ Halbarad thought as the company stood up to move to the Hall of Fire. Despite his protestations that it was not right for him to be seated above Aragorn at the table, Master Elrond had given Lady Ivorwen and him pride of place. He had only drawn attention to them briefly to name them as his honoured guests and welcome them to Imladris – then wished them and all others an enjoyable evening in honour of Midyear’s Day.

_Not that Aragorn objected to the seating arrangements,_ Halbarad thought as he glanced to where Aragorn was now offering Arwen his arm to walk to the Hall of Fire.

The Hall of Fire was as welcoming as Halbarad remembered, yet rather than joining any of the groups standing around talking, he headed for a quiet corner to watch and listen. As he sat down, Aragorn came over carrying two glasses of wine and sat down in the window seat next to him.

“Thirst should be quenched before music.”  Halbarad took the glass Aragorn handed him. “Isn’t that what you used to say?”

“I never heard you disagree,” Aragorn replied.

“True enough.” Halbarad took a sip. “Though the setting was usually the Prancing Pony, and Butterbur’s beer.” He suppressed a shudder at remembering the swill Orcs drank and at what passed for entertainment among them. To his relief Aragorn did not notice.

Aragorn laughed. “That’s true as well.” He also took a sip and leant back against the wall with a sigh of appreciation.

For a while, they sat listening as someone played merry tunes on a flute, and it felt almost like old times. After some time Halbarad noticed Aragorn’s gaze wandering to where Arwen was standing talking with Ivorwen and Glorfindel. _That has definitely not changed._

“Go on.” Halbarad nudged Aragorn. “I’ll be fine. Go talk to her.”

“If you’re sure–,” Aragorn protested, but he glanced over to Arwen again as he spoke.

“Of course. Go on.” _He’s going home in a few days; he deserves to enjoy himself unburdened by the gloom of my shadow in the background._

The flute player had stopped, but before long another Elf brought out a harp and sat down to play and sing. The song was new to Halbarad, but it was easy enough to close his eyes and let his thoughts drift with the music and the words. _Southern Lindon, watching fishing boats along the coast._ He tried to _see_ the images the singer called up. _Just let them appear, there’s no one in my mind, I’m not giving control over my thoughts to anyone. I should be able to…_ The effort pulled him out of the flow of the music. _But I don’t know what the sea looks like anymore. I don’t know._

A deep breath, and he found the music had moved on to forests deep and green and dappled patches of sunlight playing along the ground. _Those at least I remember. But the sea…_

“Halbarad?” Someone calling him.

“What is it?” He blinked, then looked up. “Master Elrond?”

“I was about to ask you if there was anything you wanted, but I did not notice you were so deeply in the music,” the other apologised. He then took a closer look at Halbarad, and asked in a low voice, “You wept?”

Halbarad gave him a confused look, but as he raised a hand and felt the wetness on his face, he could not deny it. “I don’t remember what the sea looks like,” he said. “I have seen the sea, I should know it. But I can’t remember.” He blinked again, trying to force back the tears he could feel welling up again. _How much else did I lose that I cannot even recall having known once?_

“It’s unusual for Ranger patrols to go so far west, is it not?” Elrond asked as he sat down next to Halbarad.

“Yes.” _As if you do not know that._ “It was a long time ago, during the years Aragorn was away in the south. I was only a lieutenant, and our patrol was chasing a band of Orcs who were raiding Dwarvish settlements in the northern part of the Ered Luin. We finally put an end to them well to the west of the mountains. As we had several wounded and were weary from the chase, the captain decided to set up camp for a few days. We were only a mile or two from the coast and all but one of us had not seen the sea before, so we went to look at it.” Halbarad glanced at Elrond who nodded at him to continue. “We were far to the north, where the coast is lined with steep cliffs, so all we got from the sea was the sight and the salt spray blown up by the wind.” _It was enough to stir our hearts, that much I do remember._ “The captain said that these cliffs had once been but the foothills of the Ered Luin, and that had the weather been better, we might have caught a glimpse of the isle of Himling.”

“Your captain was right,” Elrond said. “Himling can be seen from the coast in clear weather.”

“Have you ever been there?” Elrond did not answer immediately, but when Halbarad risked a glance the other looked pensive, rather than upset or annoyed by his question.

“No, and I don’t think anyone has since Beleriand sank,” Elrond said eventually. “The coast is rough and there is no safe place to land anywhere on the island. I did sail around it once though, and that is the closest I’ve been. The ruins of the fortifications Maedhros built were still there then, but that was but a thousand years or so into the Second Age, and I do not know what remains of them now.” He raised an eyebrow at Halbarad when he yawned. “I do hope that is because you are weary, rather than bored.”

“I’m sorry, I…” Halbarad started, but then he noticed the amused twinkle in Master Elrond’s eyes.

“To ask anything of a loremaster is dangerous,” Elrond said, still smiling, “for he may answer you. At some length. For now though, all I will say is that I will tell you more later if you wish it.”

**3013, July 2**

“Yes, excellent,” Elrond managed through gritted teeth. “That is a good wall.” Halbarad had cast him from his thoughts when he had already been in there, and the wall he put up was unbreakable. _He’s_ _not pulling_ _his_ _punches either, if one can say that of mental combat._ “I think that will be enough for today,” he added. “Are you still willing to talk to Glorfindel about the northern passes and caves?”

Halbarad looked uneasy, but he did nod in agreement. “Yes, Master Elrond.”

“Then I suggest you go eat a bite and return here in about an hour. We’ve been at this for most of the morning and it is hard work.”

Once Halbarad had left, Elrond returned to the reports of the valley’s expected harvest he had been putting off since before Midyear’s Day. He shook his head as he recalled Maedhros sighing in frustration at tallying their supplies, and his twenty-year old self saying to him that surely as a lord Maedhros would not have to do things he did not like. Maedhros’ only answer had been a wistful smile. _I wonder why he comes to mind now? Oh, of course, Halbarad’s questions at Midyear’s Day. And I am still delaying…_

Elrond sighed as he finally reached the last page of tallies. _And done. The harvest looks to be good, so that is one thing less to worry about this winter. Now for the rest of my worries_ …

~*~

Once the three had gathered around the map table, Elrond rolled out a map of the northern part of the Misty Mountains that ran from north of Gundabad to the High Pass. He nodded at Glorfindel to start.

“Halbarad, I’ve already heard much of what you have said about the Orcs in the Misty Mountains, but I’d like to go over it with you again and see if you can recall aught that may be of further use to our patrols.”

“As you will, Lord Glorfindel.” Halbarad looked and sounded anxious. “What do you wish to know?”

“Why so formal?” Glorfindel asked in return.

When Elrond ignored the glance Halbarad gave him, Halbarad looked down, faltering as he tried to answer. “I…”

“Halbarad,” Glorfindel stepped closer to him. “There is nothing in what was done to you that should give _you_ cause for shame.”

“No?” Halbarad looked almost angry. “Not even when the Orc I became took pleasure in the evil I did?” He walked over to the window and stood staring out, his posture rigid.

Glorfindel followed Halbarad. “Yes, your hands did these things. But the Mouth moved them. The touch of the Enemy’s works twists spirit and thought both. In what he did to you, the Mouth wronged you as much as any who were slain through you.” He held up his hand to stop Halbarad interrupting him. “Through, not by. My choice of words was deliberate. Your will was not involved.”

Halbarad drew a shuddering breath before looking at Glorfindel. “But I _do_ knowthat. Did you know there was a survivor at one of the farms I attacked? A child. What do I tell him should we meet? ‘It wasn’t me, I was _made_ to murder your family, and if I’d found you, I’d have been _made_ to murder you too.’” Halbarad shook his head. “To just say ‘it wasn’t me’ or ‘it was not by my will’... I _cannot_.”

Glorfindel continued to hold Halbarad’s gaze until after some time he nodded as if to himself. He spoke softly enough that Elrond could not make out what he said. Halbarad nodded sharply in reply and replied equally softly, then turned to look outside again briefly before returning to the map table, followed by Glorfindel.

“So, this is the pass we used to cross the Misty Mountains.” Halbarad pointed it out on the map and put a marker on the spot.

~*~

“Am I right that you won’t tell me what was said between you and Halbarad?” Elrond busied himself rolling up the various maps they had used.

“You are,” Glorfindel replied. “What I will say is that you cannot talk him out of feeling responsible for what was done through him. Nor do I think you should.”

“What do you mean by that?” Elrond asked.

“My friend, I misread him at first, but I am only a simple warrior, while you are a healer. Listen to what Halbarad says. He _does_ know that none of what he did was of his making, yet he also has to live with the memories, not just of what he did, but of what the Mouth forced him to be. From that there are two paths for him that I can see. Into despair, knowing only that no matter what he does, he cannot ever undo any of the evil he was made to do. Or, he can accept that what is done is done, and find purpose, and perhaps hope renewed, in doing what good he yet may.”

“You were never only a simple warrior,” Elrond said. “And I do see what you said,” he added. “So, I deem, does Estel. Yet I do not see how to guide him towards hope.”

“You cannot,” Glorfindel replied. “Nor can I. Nor can Estel. We may show him a direction, but he has to find the path himself.”


	12. Chapter 12

**3013, July 30**

Halbarad looked tense as he entered Elrond’s study.

“You wanted to see me, Master Elrond?”

“Yes, I did. Please, sit down.” Halbarad’s gaze remained guarded. “Is there anything more you can remember of your first captor than what I have already seen?”

Halbarad looked at Elrond in surprise as Elrond sat down opposite him. Then …

*

_Darkness._

_His head hurts._

_YOUR NAME! ANSWER!_

*

Elrond recoiled in his chair as he was thrown back from Halbarad’s thoughts.

“Master Elrond! Did I _–_ ”

“I am fine,” Elrond replied quickly.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to…”

“Drag me in and then slam the door in my face?” Elrond asked in a wry tone of voice, then added at Halbarad’s worried expression, “Truly, I am unhurt. It may be important though. I have been giving some thought to this over the last few months, and I am sorry I surprised you like that.”

“I understand it may be important, but I fear I…” Halbarad shook his head. “I do not really remember the things you found about him – I remember what you found, but it doesn’t seem as if it was _me_ , if you understand what I…yet at the same time…well, you know what happened just now.” Halbarad stared at his hands for some time before he looked up again and met Elrond’s gaze. “If I just think about it, I don’t remember anything else. You’ll…maybe it’ll help if you look into my thoughts once more?”

~*~

_I…_ Halbarad gestured at the familiar hallway that he and Elrond had entered. _The memories you seek – just now I certainly remembered. But I don’t know how to get there again._

_Try to come as close as you can,_ Elrond said. _We’ll take it from there._

Halbarad stood still for some time, until the walls faded away and…

…Elrond sensed Halbarad walking along a narrow path between bushes. Aragorn was ahead of him and there were others following behind. Then a group of Rangers sitting around a campfire, talking. Men walking in line again. Elrond reached out, and just as the image started to fade, he _pushed._

_Before,_ there had been a long respite of emptiness, and Halbarad’s _need_ to find more drawing them on. Now, their road seemed shorter, and the fog surrounding them less dense, yet Elrond also felt Halbarad’s resentment at having to be here dragging at them. The stumble into the darkness was as abrupt as before, and—

First, there was only pain, dark. The pain came and went, but the darkness remained. Then there was a voice. Elrond let the words it spoke flow past, noting only how they were meant to win Halbarad’s trust. The stranger spoke as a friend, and Elrond could see how one less wary than Halbarad might have trusted him at first. _His words seem fair enough. His tone is guarded, controlled._

Halbarad’s memories moved forward, and the cajoling gave way to threats, and eventually torture. Elrond shivered as somehow, the voice still sounded reasonable, friendly, regretful that its owner was forced to do this to the man in his care.

Then Elrond attempted to push the memories further, beyond what he had already seen. _Light!_ But too bright to see anything. Darkness again – but not as deep as before, and _pain_ that came from … _being restrained_? The room, the place, they were in seemed to _twitch_ , lose focus. Halbarad was starting to falter, and the room was fading to thick grey fog.

_Time to go back._ Elrond stepped out of the memory and opened his eyes again. Halbarad still had his eyes closed, looking _in_. Elrond called his name in mind, and Halbarad gasped and blinked as he emerged from his thoughts. He stared at Elrond, eyes wide, then quickly drew several deep breaths.

“Did you find what you needed?” Halbarad’s voice sounded gruff. He stood up without awaiting Elrond’s answer, and walked over to the map table. He leant on it with both arms, his head bent down, for some time. When he came back his posture was still rigid.

“I found what I could,” Elrond said gently.

“I am willing to try again, if it is necessary.” Halbarad looked sick at the thought.

“I will not put you through this again,” Elrond said. “I should not have asked it of you.”

After Halbarad had left, Elrond first leant back in his chair, then sighed and got up to pace. _I learned little, except that Halbarad’s captor has a mind of subtlety and strength, and that he is a master in disguising himself. The first is as I expected. The second... he either feared being recognised, or he is habitually secretive. Or both. Even so, I am certain that it is not Sauron._

**3013, August 3**

Halbarad shivered and cast a glum look at the leaden grey sky. _It feels more like October than August, but it’s not raining yet._ The blustery wind cut right through his shirt as he continued along the path deeper into the gardens.

“Good morning. You are the Dúnadan’s friend, aren’t you?”

Halbarad glanced down, surprised. “My apologies, Master Hobbit. I was lost in thought. I am sorry to have disturbed you. And yes, I am.” _Or I was, once, but…_

“Oh, hardly a disturbance. I’ve only come out here in this weather so I can have a smoke in some peace. The Elves get so fussy if I as much as take out my pipe inside the house.”

Halbarad snorted in amusement. “I imagine they do, yes, and I apologise again for distur...”

“Oh. Oh no, that is not what I meant at all! But you do not mind my smoking, do you?”

“Hardly. I used to enjoy a pipe now and then myself once.”

“But you… Oh…” The hobbit looked briefly flustered but recovered quickly. “And here I am forgetting my manners.” He stood up. “Bilbo Baggins, at your service.”

“Halbarad Halladanion, at your service and your family’s.”

“Do sit down for a bit.” Bilbo gestured at the bench he was sitting on. “At least if it is no imposition to you, but as much of a pleasure it is to be around Elves, us Mortals need to stick together as well.”

Halbarad sat down, wondering what to say.

“Thank you, it hurt my neck staring up at you,” the hobbit went on. “Are you enjoying Rivendell? I’ve not seen you around that much, but I trust you are feeling at home?”

Halbarad shrugged. “Well enough.”

“Well enough? That’s not quite… that sounds as if there is something lacking for you.”

Halbarad looked down. _How do I answer without seeming ungrateful or without pouring out my life’s story to a stranger? Aragorn can’t have told him much of me, if he’s this friendly_. “It’s nothing.” He went on when Bilbo did not speak. “Or rather, it’s not Imladris, but I feel, well, useless. I have little to do but sit around and think.”

“But this is the best place for that,” Bilbo said. “And if that is not what you want, there is so much more to do. Have you been to the library? The woods? These gardens, the waterfalls?”

“I do know the waterfalls,” Halbarad admitted. “And all else that you name.”

“Then go and enjoy them!”

“Right now?” It would have been churlish not to smile at the hobbit’s friendly enthusiasm.

“They’ll still be there tomorrow, but why not?” Bilbo answered. “Now is the best time. But before you dash off, there is something I’ve wondered about.”

“What is it?” Halbarad’s mood fell immediately. _I hope he doesn’t want to know…_

“Oh, nothing important really, but the Dúnadan – that is what I’m used to calling Aragorn, but,” Bilbo laughed softly, “it will be confusing now you’re here – mentioned that you two are kin, and I wondered how you are related.”

Halbarad sighed in relief. “It is a bit of a tangle. Aragorn’s grandfather Arador’s sister Fíriel was my grandmother, and Aragorn’s grandmother Ivorwen’s brother Elatan my grandfather.”

“Grandparents on which side?” Bilbo asked. “But Ivorwen? The lady who arrived in your party just before Midyear’s Day? She’s the Dúnadan’s grandmother?”

“Yes.” Halbarad nodded. “Though, more precisely, I arrived in _her_ party.”

“Aragorn didn’t tell me.” Bilbo looked indignant. “I’ll have to invite her for tea and have a chat. But going back to my question to _you,_ which grandparent is on which side?”

“Both mother’s side for me. Ivorwen is Aragorn’s mother’s mother. And Arador…”

“…his father’s father,” Bilbo finished. “Of course, I should have known that. I have seen his name in a book in the library. That makes you two second cousins twice over. Unusual, but not _that_ much of a tangle, unless your other grandparents are also related to Aragorn.”

“I don’t think so, at least not within many generations.” Halbarad gave a half-shrug. He remembered – from _some_ where – that it was said that hobbits could talk about family and who was related to whom and how for days on end. “That answered your question. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a question for you as well.” He went on at Bilbo’s nod. “How did you and Aragorn meet and befriend each other?”

Halbarad was surprised by the searching look Bilbo gave him before he answered. “Here in Rivendell. He was curious about my travels, and we ended up talking.”

“Your trav…Oh, of course! I should’ve rea…I beg your pardon, Master Hobbit.” _And that, combined with what I remember about the guard on the Shire being increased_ … _For all that Aragorn and Gandalf suspect, rather than know for certain, what_... He ignored the shudder running down his back. _I certainly don’t want to know more than that_.

“Please! It was a long time ago and I am hardly a hero, no matter what you may have heard.” Bilbo looked proud and embarrassed both at once. “Anyway, I must go now, but I’m out here for a walk most mornings, and I look forward to talking to you again.”

“Likewise.” Halbarad smiled at the hobbit as the other stood up to head back to the house. _And maybe I_ should _go and look at waterfalls this afternoon._

**3013, September 2**

The small waterfall had quickly become Halbarad’s refuge since he had first gone there at Bilbo’s urging. He joined the old hobbit in the gardens near the house most mornings while the other smoked his pipe, and they would talk. Mostly Bilbo talked about the Shire or the book he was writing about his long-ago adventure, or he shared some titbit of knowledge he had found in the library, but Halbarad also told him much about the Dúnedain and the Rangers. Once Bilbo went on his way, Halbarad would stop by the kitchens for a bite to eat to take with him, and he would head out for the afternoon past the gardens and the fields to the place he had found. _I treasure his company, but I fear I will lose it should he find out about my betrayals._

He braced himself against the loneliness that welled up. _It is not even…life as a Ranger was much more solitary at times… I do go to the Hall of Fire, even if I don’t do so every night. But of those I know here beyond being able to match a face and a name – I do not wish to bother Master Elrond_ , _he has better things to occupy his time. Ivorwen seems to be settling in well. I have seen her around, and she always looks busy. And anyone I knew before_ … He shook his head. _Life here is more than good enough. I should not wish for what I forfeited through my own deeds_.

Halbarad sat down in his accustomed spot to watch the water fall into the shallow pool it had carved out in the rocks, then leant back and closed his eyes. _There are larger falls and even fairer views deeper into the valley, but this suffices._

It was good to lie back and bask in the sun with the babbling rush of the waterfall in the background. _Between the warmth of the sun and the sound of the water I could easily fall asleep, but that would make it even harder to do so at night. At least my dreams have quietened somewhat, and without having to ask Master Elrond for help…_ He had even dreamt of the sea, not that the memory of the sight had remained with him – but that might come too.

_Just lying here, listening to the water… It’s hard to think beyond the moment_. As pleasant as it was, it made him think also of days that had been carefree in truth, with no concern other than the now. _And I haven’t been that carefree since I first became a Ranger. I feel more at ease than I have for a very long time. And more than I have any right to be._ He opened his eyes and sat up again to watch the water. _Back in Caras Dirnen, Elrond asked me what I would do if I could choose freely, and I said I wanted to make amends for what I had done_.

He stood up to head back to the house. _I should prove my words true. But how? If I could I would be a Ranger again, but who would serve with me? Not that anything I do can ever be enough, but doing nothing – as I’ve done since I came here – is worse_.

_I should talk to Master Elrond. Perhaps there is some task he can set me. But I cannot just barge in. I’ll have to let him know that I’d like to speak to him_. He resolved to do so soon. _And I should stop coming here_. He cast a regretful look at the water. _This is a place of peace, of beauty. It has a power to heal, to soothe, but it should not be sullied by what I bring to it, and I should not be lulled to sleep by it._

**3013, September 18**

_Today I_ will _go see Master Elrond. Aside from anything else, we still need to test that I can block any attempt to enter my thoughts. Trying it with anyone else than him has been..._ Halbarad shook his head. _First things first, and for all my words about atonement for the evil I have done, I am unable to act even in so small a manner. What am I if I cannot even do this much?_ He sat on the edge of his bed for a while, head in hands. _I’ll do it first thing after breakfast_. As he stood up, he saw a folded piece of paper had been put under his door overnight. _Master Elrond summoning me? No, he would ask in person, or send someone to call for me._

~*~

“I am glad that you could drop by to pay your old aunt a visit. Please sit down.”

Halbarad sat. Ivorwen’s note had been terse, saying only that she wished to see him, yet now she acted as if he had just happened to drop by for a visit back in Caras Dirnen.

“So, how are you enjoying Rivendell? Have you settled in well?” Halbarad asked when Ivorwen said nothing. _If she won’t tell me why she called me here, I’ll at least start with the pretence that this is a mere friendly family visit._

“I could ask you the same question.” Ivorwen gave him a searching look. “But as I have eyes to see, I won’t. Elrond and his people have shown you every kindness and done all they could to welcome you, yet you make yourself a prisoner still. Are you that evil then, that no forgiveness or mercy can be granted you?”

_Yes,_ Halbarad wanted to answer. _Yet… no! I did not will my deeds. But I did them._

Ivorwen sighed. “Lad,” she started.

Halbarad snorted.

“I’m close to twice your age. I can call you that.”

Now it was Halbarad’s turn to sigh. “As you wish, Aunt Ivorwen.”

“Thank you. You need to do something about those amends you say your deeds are too horrible for.”

Halbarad stared at her.

“Halbarad, as you are now you are _still_ doing the Enemy’s work. You are not atoning for anything. The only one who would be pleased to see you so mired in misery is the Mouth of Sauron.”

“But I…” _I know!_ “Aunt Ivorwen, I’m a warrior. I’ve slain many – Men, Orcs, others – in battle, both before and after I was captured. Yet that is different to killing the innocent. They…” He looked away. “I slew the very people I once swore to protect. I cannot just say that it wasn’t me, that I had no choice. True as that is, I still did it. And no amount of making amends can undo any of it. I failed every duty and broke every oath I was ever sworn to keep.”

“Failed your duty? Then what are you doing now, other than failing it again? Or still? Think you that because you cannot undo what you have done, any deeds you may yet do have no worth of their own? You have done good wielding weapons too.”

Halbarad glanced down at his hands, clean now, but still stained by the blood of those he... “What duty could I offer my lord when I cannot even serve him as a Ranger?”

Ivorwen looked at him long before she spoke again. “Duty? Is that truly the only reason you now wish to serve your Chieftain?” Halbarad found he was unable to look away from her gaze.

“I nearly killed him. I broke not just my oaths, but also the bonds of friendship. Why else than for duty owed would he even want the service of one such as I?” _He_ already _sent me away, even if that was to protect… no, I should stop thinking that._

“Truly? Oh, lad, you underestimate his heart.”

“Perhaps,” Halbarad replied grudgingly. “But already he has hurt the love our people have for him by not condemning me. I would only bring further harm to him.”

“Time heals many wounds,” Ivorwen said. “And that goes for yours as well.”

He still pondered what Ivorwen meant by that when he saw – _a dark cloudy sky, the black outline of a banner reluctantly moving in the sluggish air. Then, the clouds breaking on the horizon and the sun rising from behind jagged mountains. A flash of light_ … He gasped as the vision faded before he could see the banner’s design. Yet he also felt a spark of hope rise up to meet what he had seen.

“Foresight?”

“Yes.”

“What did you see?”

“A banner, but I couldn’t see the design on it.” Halbarad considered again what he had seen. “What does it mean?” he wondered out loud.

“I don’t know,” Ivorwen answered with a small shrug. “It is your vision, not mine. But foresight always has a reason.”

“It felt… I don’t know. But there was hope in what I saw.”

“Then keep that hope in your heart, and remember that these things have a way of working out, even if we do not always know immediately how or why,” she said.

Halbarad looked down. “I don’t know about that,” he murmured. _How could anything I touch turn to good after…._

“This foresight, and the hope in it, were sent to _you_ , remember that,” Ivorwen said firmly. “Enough of that for now, though,” she went on in a lighter tone of voice. “Bilbo’s been complaining to me about your absence from the gardens. He’s ever so taken with you, especially with all the gossipy tales of Aragorn you’ve been telling him.”

Halbarad gave her a surprised look, then turned his head away, trying to hide his embarrassment. Denying himself the pleasure of spending long afternoons at the waterfalls meant that he had also not seen Bilbo for some time. “I do miss our talks,” he admitted _. Even if he’s only taken with me, as Ivorwen puts it, because he doesn’t know what…_

“And none of that,” Ivorwen said sharply at his silence. “Stop punishing yourself.” She sighed. “Only one as stubborn as you could make a stay in Rivendell into punishment. Oh, and you should write your wife.”

“I should…what? Why? She deserves to be free of me.”

“Is that what she thinks?”

_Yes_ , Halbarad wanted to say. _She…I abandoned her for ten years, I killed her brother, I… But… she could have asked Aragorn to declare our marriage ended, and I would have let her go without any claim on her. She could have been free of me already, but she only asked for a separation._

“I don’t know,” he said.

~*~

“I can’t wait to be home,” Elrohir said as Elladan joined him to look down over the edge of the valley. Elladan did not reply, but he had been much quieter than usually all the way from the High Pass. _He’s only left there because I insisted._

The shadows of dusk lay heavy over the valley, and thin wisps of pale fog floated among the dark tree tops. No lights shone yet anywhere below them, but even at night they would remain hidden to most who might look into the valley, Elrohir knew. _It is not that the Last Homely House is invisible, but the mind is steered away from seeing, from noticing_. He could feel the ward’s familiar suggestion to go elsewhere, – that there was nothing of interest here – and knew it would be much stronger for one who came here with hostile intent. 

_It was not this ward that saw off the Witch-king of Angmar or Annatar’s own armies_ , Elladan observed. _I prefer to put my trust in our other defences_.

_You’re still concerned about the Mouth of Sauron_? Elrohir asked.

Silence.

~*~

Elrohir gave Elladan a sharp look as they approached the house. _You do seem preoccupied still, brother._

Elladan huffed in annoyance. _I suppose I should go see Father right now_.

“I’m sure he won’t mind if you only go to see him tomorrow.”

“It is why you said I should return. He wanted to see me, so he will. Leave it at that.” He thrust his bags at Elrohir before heading inside.

Elrohir picked up the bags with a sigh and walked on rather more slowly. There _was_ still the matter of Elladan’s attempt to break into Halbarad’s thoughts. _Father will not let that go, nor should he._

He had just got to his room and was about to go and put Elladan’s bags in his brother’s room when he heard Elladan come in. Elladan did not _quite_ slam the door, but even with his mind closed Elrohir felt his anger. _That wasn’t long enough for him and Father to argue. I’d better go and see what the matter is._

Elladan was standing near the balcony door, staring into the night. Eventually he turned and looked at Elrohir.

“Did you speak to Fath-“

“No.” The look Elladan gave him was as troubled as it was angry. “When I turned the corner in the hall, I saw the Orc-spawn leave Father’s study. Had I gone in, I doubt I could have spoken reasonably.”

_That restraint was probably wise,_ Elrohir thought. _Even so…_ “You’ve known all summer that Father has given Halbarad shelter here. Can you not-“

“No,” Elladan said again. “I cannot. But I wonder why you are all taken in, you, Father, Estel…”

“Taken in?”

“Taken in, yes. You might as well trust an Orc. Estel is alive only because you stopped him bleeding out from the wound his _friend_ gave him. He and his Orcs murdered over a hundred of his own people. Who knows what other evils he has done in the Enemy’s service?”

“You know what Father found in his mind. He did not willingly betray–“

“Maybe not, but betray he did. And he–“

“Elladan–“

“He lived with Orcs for years. You cannot trust him. Have you forgotten what Orcs are? What they do?” _What they_ have _done?_

Elrohir could feel Elladan trying to keep his thoughts to himself, but…

_…the others moving further into the main cave to root out any Orcs that are hiding there. The two of them hurrying down into the deepest reaches of the caves, where they expect prisoners to be kept. They carry torches to light their way. The stench and the heavy air are nearly enough to drive them out again, but the gleam of their swords in the flickering light keeps their thoughts on their purpose…_

_Elladan, enough. I remember well enough._

Elladan’s mind slammed closed. “I’ll go see Father in the morning. I will see you then.”

**3013, September 19**

The bench where Bilbo usually smoked his pipe in the morning was empty. Halbarad sat down in disappointment. _But why would he be here? It’s been a month since I last joined him on his stroll, and the weather’s getting colder_. He sighed and got up again. _I may as well go and talk to Bellas now to see if he is willing to have me spar in the practice yard. I’m looking forward to it, even if I have to start with basic moves._

It was early enough in the day that the practice yard was empty, with only Bellas himself there.

“Halbarad. Good morning. What can I do for you?” Elrond’s Master of Arms asked.

“Master Elrond said I could start practici-“

“Say no more! He told me to expect you. I’ll have to see who to put you in with at first, but I’ll–” His gaze moved to a point behind Halbarad. “Good morning to you, Elladan, Elrohir! I didn’t know you were back.”

_Elladan!_ Halbarad turned around, while Elrohir proceeded to tell Bellas that they had only arrived the previous night and were now on their way to speak to their father.

“You!” Elladan stepped up until he was within easy arm’s reach and looked Halbarad over slowly. “So… the Kinslayer not only lives, but he has also found shelter from the consequences of his deeds. Now you’re here, why don’t we spar as of old? You can show me the move you used to get past Aragorn’s defences.” Elladan sneered as he moved even nearer.

Anger – and shame – flared up in Halbarad’s mind, but he forced himself to stillness as he met Elladan’s gaze. From the corner of his eye he saw Elrohir and Bellas come closer as well. _To stop Elladan, or to help him?_ __

“Why so quiet, traitor? Afraid to speak your mind?”

_Curse it, I have cowered enough._ Halbarad shrugged. “What would I say? That you are right? You are. I am a traitor. And yes, the Captain spared me, though I did not ask it. I am _here_ because your father offered me shelter. Slay me as I should have been or take up your grievance with Master Elrond. Or maybe you would rather break my arm again? You know where to find me.” He shouldered his way past Elladan when the other did not step aside as he walked away.

~*~

“Father, you wanted to speak to me?” Elladan had not bothered to knock.

“Indeed, I do,” Elrond answered. “Though perhaps you should have come sooner. It can wait now until I have your report on the High Pass.”

“Can it? When I find that traitor dwelling here seemingly in the highest of honour?” Elladan met his gaze angrily. “I think not. Father, you were reluctant to go to Caras Dirnen and only went over our fears of what he might have revealed to the Enemy. What veil has been cast over your eyes that you then not only looked for excuses for the traitor’s actions, but offered him shelter in Imladris?”

Elrond sighed. “Very well then. Sit down. Listen. Elladan, I did not summon you to justify my actions, but to question you on yours. And you are right I did not want to become involved in what seemed a simple case, a matter for the Dúnedain alone. Yet I looked further than what seemed obvious and changed my mind when it became clear that matters were not as they seemed.”

Elladan’s expression as he sat down was carefully bland, but Elrond knew his anger was not gone.

“Why did you try to break into Halbarad’s mind by force when you questioned him?” Elrond kept his own anger carefully in check.

“It was necessary.” Elladan did not elaborate.

“Necessary? No matter what you thought to gain from it, or what need you believe drove you, the mind that is closed cannot while the will is whole be forced to open. To attempt to compel one to open his mind through duress – as you did – is to follow along the Enemy’s path of old, and that of his Master.”

“It was necessary,” Elladan repeated. “You did not see him when he first came to our camp and he was more Orc than Man. How can you believe the Orc is no longer there, that he will not turn on us when he has the chance?”

“He opened his mind to me. I have seen that he is free of what he was turned into.” Elrond gave in to his frustration and stood up to pace, reminded as always when he did so of Elros calling it his only habit of Mannish restlessness. “But you… To use pain to try to break the will is an evil act.” Elrond turned and stood still. As he looked at Elladan again, he opened his thoughts and shared the dread he had felt at first hearing what Elladan had done.

Elladan once more met his gaze without hesitation, but no longer with his previous anger. Eventually he looked down. “I did what I believed was necessary. But can you be sure that he is free of the Orc? Is that not what the Enemy did in the First Age – set free those who had been broken to his will, to have them carry out his bidding when they were seemingly free of him? After all the evil Halbarad has done, how could he be otherwise? But maybe what you saw is true, and Imladris will not be betrayed as Gondolin was once.”

“I’d counsel you not to phrase your objections to Halbarad in those words within Glorfindel’s hearing,” Elrond said drily. _And yes, I am sure._ He did not elaborate on the thought.

Elladan snorted, then went on, his expression now uncertain. “Father, I truly thought what I did was necessary.” He held up his hand. “Please, let me explain. When I first saw Halbarad, he… After our camp was attacked, I was out there with the patrol chasing after the Orcs and the Man who led them. I did not even know whether Estel was alive or dead. Then we found him, or he found us, and he bore the face of one I had once thought a friend. Does not the Enemy delight in such betrayals, of friends set against each other?” Elladan looked into the distance, his thoughts unguarded.

=~*~=

_“You’d better come and see,” the Ranger had said._ And here I am…

_As Elladan walks towards the sentries' position, he sees the man the sentries captured._ Or… Man? One who willingly goes about with Orcs is no more than just another Orc. _The other turns his head at his approach._

_Elladan clenches his fists until his fingernails dig into his palms._ Estel was right.

_He sees again Estel’s pallid face, and Elrohir with raw fear in his eyes while his hands press down on Estel’s wound, blood welling sluggishly between his fingers as he tries to stem its flow. Their brother’s breathing is ragged as he struggles to speak of the one who so wounded him._

=~*~=

Elladan looked to where Elrond was standing leaning against the map table. “He is no better than an Orc, and he deserves no better than any of them,” he said at last.

“He would without a doubt be the first to agree with you, but that doesn’t make either of you right.”

“You said before that you saw differently.” Elladan walked over to stand next to Elrond.

Elrond nodded.

_Show me._

_As much as I can. Some of it is for Halbarad to reveal or not._

~*~

Elrond was the first to emerge from their shared thoughts, and he quickly poured some miruvor for both him and his son.

“Thanks,” Elladan muttered as he looked up. “I…I understand better now. Yet for all that he did not commit his betrayal willingly, he still did it.”

“That, too, he would agree on with you,” Elrond said.

Elladan was silent for a long time, his thoughts kept closed, but even so Elrond felt his tension lessen. “I will continue to watch Halbarad, but I will not again confront him unless he gives me reason.”

**3014, March 5**

Bilbo was chatting away, seemingly without a care for who might hear, as Aragorn entered the gardens, making it easy to find him and Halbarad.

Aragorn had been silent enough that he had not been heard, so he stopped to listen before either Man or hobbit noticed him. Halbarad said little – _knowing Bilbo in a talkative mood, he’d have to work to get a word in_ – but it was good to hear him laugh even once.

Aragorn quietly moved some distance back and approached again, now making sure he was heard.

“Halbarad, Bilbo, good morning.”

“Dúnadan, welcome back!”

Halbarad stood up, his mien abruptly serious. “Sir, I…”

“It’s good to see you.” He smiled as he quickly clasped Halbarad’s arm. “And Bilbo, old friend, how is Rivendell?”

“Much less quiet since you started sending all your kin here,” Bilbo replied. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you from both Halbarad and your lady grandmother.”

Seeing Halbarad’s uncertain expression, Aragorn swallowed a joke about their conspiring against him. _Too close a cut, even in jest_. “Nothing too embarrassing, I hope?” he asked instead.

“Of course not,” Bilbo replied. “Would we?”

~*~

“Is Mithrandir not here yet?” Aragorn asked as he entered Elrond’s study.

“No, he still had some business in the library before he would join us,” Elrond replied.

“How long ago was that?”

“Not long enough to send someone after him.”

Aragorn snorted in amusement, his expression turning serious again as he sat down. “Halbarad looks to be doing a bit better, though not well enough to join the hunt for Gollum.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mithrandir suggested I’d ask Halbarad to come with us, as three see more than two, and he knows the lands we’ll be searching well.” Aragorn shook his head.

“I take it you said no.”

“I did. He’d come if I asked him, but I would not put that choice before him, much as I’d have wished that...”

“I agree,” Elrond said. “He wouldcome if you commanded him to do so, but I deem it not yet wise to risk him facing what he escaped. He _is_ doing better than he was. I wonder who has been his healer, though,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “Much of what I might offer to aid him was met with polite acknowledgement and equally polite rejection. It took Ivorwen and Bilbo for him to admit that he is not the embodiment of evil he held himself to be.”

Aragorn gave Elrond a questioning look.

“Bilbo befriended Halbarad when they first ran into each other in the gardens. Ivorwen… She may be the only one more stubborn than he is and once she turned that stubbornness against his, well…”

“I saw Halbarad and Bilbo together outside this morning. They do get along well. So, grandmother took him to task like an especially obstinate toddler?”

Elrond gave him an amused glance. “Do I hear the voice of experience there? Whatever she said to him, he took notice. But even so I would not call him healed yet.” _And after what he has been through, I wonder if he ever can be fully so. But Estel knows that too._ “And for all that Bilbo has lifted his spirits, too often he sinks back into despair and tells himself he does not deserve to live, or to live in the comfort of the Last Homely House.”

Aragorn nodded. “I saw some of that when I spoke with him. But compared to the day of the trial… Had you not spoken then of what you had found, he would have kept his silence and gone to his death keeping it. Now at least he seems to have found a wish to live again.”

“That is what I’ve seen also,” Elrond said. “Did he say Glorfindel will be taking him on patrol this summer?”

“He did. You do think he’s ready for that?”

“Yes, or I would have spoken against it. Glorfindel thinks it will do him good to have something to do that makes him feel useful, and I agree with him.”

“Is that not obvious?”

“Perhaps it is, but it did take Glorfindel to tell me to not guide all of Halbarad’s steps and leave him some freedom to find his own path to healing,” Elrond admitted.

“Then I too will trust to his wisdom.” Aragorn sagged back in his chair with his eyes closed. “And I’ll resume the hunt for Gollum with a lighter mind, at least where Halbarad is concerned. There is little enough cause for cheer within the hunt itself.” He opened his eyes and went on at Elrond’s questioning look. “Last year, Gandalf heard a rumour that Gollum, or some creature much like him, had been seen near the borders of Mordor, but he failed to find trace of him. Maybe, had I been there, we would have been able to finally pick up his trail. Now I fear another year’s delay will render our search fruitless.”

“Perhaps,” Elrond said, “or this year may prove the turning point. And do not fault yourself for the delay. If there is fault, it lies in not investigating the hobbit’s Ring for too many years. Had Gandalf been worried sooner, or I...” He shook his head. “But alas, we were not.”

“And I _was_ delayed.” Aragorn looked annoyed. “But there is naught to be done about what might have been.”

“Indeed not,” Elrond said, “and all I can say is to remain hopeful.” He gave Aragorn a stern look. “Do not fault Halbarad for the delay.”

“I don’t,” Aragorn said. “But it is a delay that may yet cost us dearly.”


	13. Chapter 13

**3019, February 8**

_Do I have everything?_ Halbarad sat down on his bed and went through his pack yet again. _Of course I do! This is hardly the first time I’ve prepared for a long journey._ He looked around the room he had called his these last few years. _And yet…_

=~*~=

_He shivers as the broken window rattles in the wind, and the tattered, faded remains of the curtains blow in. The plaster on the wall is cracked and crumbling, dust and dry leaves carpeting the floor._

_He blinks against the dust that has been stirred up by the wind._

=~*~=

 _I will not return here,_ Halbarad knew as the room was restored. _But is it_ my _doom or Rivendell’s that I see? Such decay does not come from one season’s neglect._ He tried to see more, but the vision had already slipped away, and all he saw was a great, grey expanse of water. _The Sea! But what does it mean?_

He shook his head and turned to open a drawer. Inside was a package wrapped in brown paper. _Ivorwen’s gift. She said I would know when to open it._ Inside the package were a folded sheet of paper and something wrapped in a scrap of fabric. _And I do now know what it is_. He first unfolded the paper. _A note_. He felt an odd reluctance to learn what Ivorwen’s last message to him was and turned the fabric-wrapped item over in his hands a few times before reading the note.

_Dear lad,_

_This is Dírhael’s Star. I know you will wear it with honour when the time comes again for you to go forth as a Ranger, and I give it to you with my blessing._

_Yours, Ivorwen_

The star lay heavy in Halbarad’s hand. _It was Ivorwen’s right to bestow it as she saw fit, but would Dírhael have agreed? I don’t deserve this_. _And “Nonsense!” Ivorwen would have said to that_. He tightened his hand around the star until the points dug into his fingers, then blinked back tears as he pinned the brooch to his cloak. _I miss her – and I certainly did not think I’d bear one of these again, but I am called to duty among my own people once more. Duty, and perhaps a chance to redeem the evils I did. If I ever can._

~*~

 _And done!_ Arwen tied the last strap around the standard’s cover, and headed for the Hall of Fire. She had asked Halbarad and her brothers to meet her there before they set off. Their horses were already standing waiting in the courtyard.

She held on closely to the standard as she entered the hall. Elladan and Elrohir were standing together, with Halbarad several paces away and looking ill at ease.

“Elladan, Elrohir, Halbarad. I am glad you’re all here.” She walked over to Halbarad. “Halbarad, old friend, there is one further thing I would ask of you when you set off.”

“You only have to ask, my lady,” he replied, still looking uncomfortable.

“Then will you carry this" – she indicated the standard in its black cloth cover– "to Aragorn for me?"

His eyes widened as he looked closely at what she carried and she recalled that he, too, was foresighted. "My lady, entrusting me with this is too great an honour.”

"I would hand it to no other," she replied. "I see that you have already perceived what it is. Keep it secret until you find him, and when you do, bring him also my message. ' _The days now are short. Either our hope cometh, or all hope's end. Therefore I send thee what I have made for thee. Fare well, Elfstone!_ '"

Halbarad, his expression solemn, nodded, and took the standard.

She placed her hand over his as he held the standard, and _saw_ – the standard raised high, the morning sun glinting off its design. _That is what I saw once before, but now through Halbarad’s eyes._ "Go with my blessing, my friend,” she said softly. “And with my gratitude."

~*~

Elladan had held back when Elrohir and Halbarad left. “Arwen, why Halbarad?”

“If anyone will find Estel in time, it is him,” she replied. _And what Halbarad brings him is a matter of the Dúnedain, not the Elves_.

Elladan looked towards the door where Elrohir and Halbarad had gone, and shook his head.

“Do you doubt him still?” Arwen asked.

Her brother looked down before answering her question. “I don’t know. He has appeared to be true these last few years, but that loyalty has not been put to any great test yet.”

“Had Father or Glorfindel or anyone else doubted him, they would have spoken. And perhaps this is to be his test. Do not–”

“Arwen, I am no fool! For all that I do not know that Halbarad is ‘safe’ if you like, I do _not_ want him to fail.”

Arwen shook her head. “Just…”

“I’ll do no more than keep an eye on him. As I’ve done since he came here.”

~*~

 _I’ll not return to Rivendell again, and I’ve seen that we must go now, today._ _It is not much to go on, and I don’t even know what any of it means._ _Arwen has seen more, little though she would say._

He tightened his hand on Arwen’s standard, and remembered his vision from years ago. That same standard, he now knew, raised high at dawn against the darkness, and the sense of hope that had come with the sight. _Whatever doom, whatever evil, awaits at the end of this journey, it is not wholly inescapable._

It had started to snow, the soft, slow flakes melting into their path and disappearing. _Only for now. If this goes on long enough, we cannot do other than leave a trail as long as we stay on the road. An ill start to our journey it would be if the weather puts Orcs or brigands on our path as soon as we cross the river._ Halbarad glanced back at Elladan and Elrohir, Elladan with Roheryn on a lead rein. _At least the horse is not as fractious as when I first met him, and these days Elladan seems content to merely watch me, though that is unsettling enough. Maybe we should have gone through Hollin after all – three on horseback can travel in secret and reasonably quickly even in winter, and the road west is much longer. Yet west is still faster, and Master Elrond counselled against following the footsteps of the Fellowship too closely for all that may have been stirred up in the mountains._

They had been riding for several hours when the Ford of Bruinen came into view.

_There is someone waiting. A Ranger, and in the garb of the Grey Company. What…?_

“What is this?” Elladan turned to Halbarad.

Halbarad shrugged at Elladan’s doubtful tone. “I don’t know.” _What, he thinks I arranged for us to be ambushed by_ Rangers? _I’d be more concerned they are here to stop_ me _._

They were still some distance away, but it was obvious the Ranger had seen them as he gave a piercing whistle. Immediately, more Rangers emerged from cover.

“Let us go see.” Halbarad nudged his horse to walk on.

As they came nearer the water, Halbarad saw that the Ranger who had been watching the Ford was Borlas. _And is that_ Halmir? _I knew he had been chosen for the Grey Company, but to see him here..._

“Borlas! What brings the Grey Company here?” Halbarad called out as soon as he and Elrond’s sons entered the water. As he addressed Borlas, from the corner of his eye he saw Halmir watching him. He tried to ignore the scowls and surprised mutterings of the other men as they too recognised him.

Borlas only replied when Halbarad was within speaking distance. “We received word to prepare for a long journey and to wait here.” He looked curiously at the covered standard Halbarad bore, and glanced at Roheryn and their packhorse on their lead reins. “I would guess that you did as well.”

Halbarad nodded and dismounted. Borlas gestured to follow him.

“Why am I here?” Borlas asked once they were out of earshot of the others.

“What do you mean?”

“I think you’re setting out to find the Captain, or you would not bring his horse. But when I said we received word, I meant that _I_ received word. In a dream.”

“Your guess is right, we are joining the Captain. But you? A dream?” _Borlas, who will not believe anything is real that he cannot touch?_

“Yes.” Borlas looked irritated and somewhat embarrassed at the admission. “So tell me,” he quickly went on, glancing over at Elrond’s sons, “Who rides with whom?”

“The task was laid on me,” Halbarad replied. “All I cantell you is that we ride for Rohan.”

Only then did Borlas spot the Ranger star pinning Halbarad’s cloak. He gave Halbarad a searching look and nodded sharply. “Then Rohan it is. My dream told me to follow the one I would find here, and I will do so. I suppose you wish to take command of the Grey Company?”

“No,” Halbarad said resolutely. Borlas looked at him, clearly expecting more of an answer. “No,” Halbarad said again. “Even if they wouldfollow me, you are their captain.”

To Halbarad’s relief Borlas did not ask further but clapped him on the shoulder and turned back to the others. “I’d better go tell the men.”

After Borlas was done, the first who spoke was Gelmir, who had already been in the Grey Company when Halbarad led them.

“South to find the Captain?” he asked Borlas. “When he set off east across the mountains? And whose idea was this? _His_?” Gelmir pointed at Halbarad.

“What about the captain’s dream, then?” one whom Halbarad did not recognise asked.

“Dream, or delusion?” Gelmir again.

“I will not be led by a traitor,” another Ranger said loudly. “And anyone who will is as much a traitor as he is.”

 _Beleg, another who once followed me. I cannot argue his point._ Halbarad glanced at Borlas, who could not hide a flinch at Beleg’s accusation. _But Borlas doesn’t deserve this. For all that we were never friends before, he is a good man, a good Ranger and a good captain._

“Then what, Beleg?” One of the men Halbarad did not know walked up to Beleg. “Then what? Would you disregard your captain’s orders? That just pits one betrayal against another.”

Beleg reached for his sword.

_This has to stop. Now._

Halbarad stepped into the circle of arguing Rangers.

“ENOUGH!”

Silence.

“Those who do not wish to follow me do not have to.” Halbarad did not look at Borlas. _For interfering now, I might as well declare myself captain, as much as I just said that I do not wish to take his captaincy from him_. “They can stay behind without penalty. Who is with me?”

Beleg and Sador immediately walked away from the other Rangers, with five more men following them more slowly. Gelmir and one other hesitated, but stayed with Borlas. Halmir had said little during the debate, but now, though he was the last, he walked over to where Beleg and the others were standing.

Then he turned and looked long at Halbarad. Halbarad held his breath as his son looked at Borlas and then, as slowly as he had joined Beleg, walked back to stand by Borlas.

**3019, February 9**

Overnight the snow from the previous day had been replaced by a fine drizzly rain, not enough to soak the company or their gear, but enough to make riding unpleasant. All were huddled in their cloaks, hoods pulled low over their heads against the rain. They now rode with Halbarad at the front of their column by himself, Elrohir further ahead to scout and Elladan with two Rangers as a rear guard. The others were spread out in between, loosely grouped in twos and threes. Roheryn had been willing to let Borlas lead him and trotted contentedly alongside the Ranger captain’s horse.

 _For all that half of the men left following Borlas won’t even speak to me – though there has been enough talk among themselves – things are going well enough for now. I break no orders by setting out on this journey, and Borlas has some leeway in what he does, but the Grey Company may be sorely missed when Sauron’s hand reaches North. If it is war we want, we could just wait, for war will come here too, but we’re riding towards it._ “ _Go south. Look for Aragorn in Rohan.” But how or why Aragorn will be in Rohan when the Fellowship set out east… Yet who knows what happened after Master Elrond received word of Gandalf’s fall?_

 _And even if we find Aragorn, will he be pleased to see us, to see_ me _?_ The hope embodied in the standard Halbarad carried seemed very remote now. _But even if there were no hope left in opposing our enemy, there is still defiance._ Halbarad shook his head and glanced back at the men behind him. _I’ll not say they follow without question, for there have been enough of those, and I may not be their captain, yet I_ am _leading them._

They had been riding for a few hours when Borlas called the first halt of the day. After he dismounted, Halbarad quickly ran his hands down his horse’s legs and checked for stones in her hooves. As he looked up, he found Halmir watching him. When his son noticed his gaze, he turned and went to speak to Borlas and Elladan.

 _I have no claim on him. Not anymore. And I barely know him, except for what little Dineth has written about him. But I should try to talk things over with him, no matter how it will turn out – we are riding towards war, and such are not times to leave aught unsaid._ Halbarad stifled a sigh and turned back to adjust his saddle girth, resisting the urge to look south towards the Angle. _Dineth…_ _I’d_ _dearly wish to see her again, but for her to have answered my letters at all is already more than I dared hope_. _And I still feel watched._

“I…I don’t know what to call you. Captain, Father…” Halmir had walked over to him unnoticed.

“Call me by name if you wish,” Halbarad replied, his tone rough. “I am no man’s captain, nor have I been much of a father.” _To either you or your brother_.

The younger man looked ill at ease, wary, but also curious. “Halbarad, then.” Halmir’s gaze on him was keen, and he seemed to be searching for something before he continued speaking. “I was the one who found uncle Daeron after you attacked our camp. For a long time, I hated you. Not just for myself, but also for Mother and for Haldan.”

Halbarad looked down. “I am sorry,” he said as he met Halmir’s gaze again. “I wish it hadn’t…that _I_ hadn’t…” _Not just for Daeron, but for all the ill I did._

“So do I.” Halmir looked away for a moment. “But we cannot undo the past, and from what I heard, you had no choice in any of it, nor did you know him at the time.”

“That is true,” Halbarad replied softly. “But even so…” _Killing Daeron wasn’t enough to break the Mouth’s spell on me. It nearly cost Aragorn’s life to do that._

“I shouldn’t ask maybe, but did he recognise _you_?”

“I don’t know,” Halbarad replied. “I hope not.” _It was dark, and I had come up on him from behind,_ he did not say. _But Halmir knows that._

“He took me hunting. He taught me how to take care of myself in the Wild and to handle a sword.” Halmir bit his lip and went on after a few moments. “I no longer hate you. I’ve talked with uncle Aragorn a few times and with the captain – with Borlas, I mean – and I think I understand more now.”

Halbarad released a breath he had not realised he had been holding. “Thank you.” He looked down at his hands. “And Haldan?”

Halmir remained silent for some time. “He…” He too looked down, then back at Halbarad. “Daeron was as a father to us both. But for Haldan, Daeron was the only father he’d ever known. I… I remembered you from before.” He started to say more, but stopped.

“So he hates me still.”

“Yes,” Halmir said. “I am sorry that I…”

“Don’t be. I deserve no better.”

“A few years, maybe even a few days, ago I’d have agreed,” Halmir replied with a snort. “Haldan may also come to understand better.” He looked up as Borlas gave a sharp whistle. “We will speak more later.”

He clasped Halbarad’s hand before walking back to his horse, leaving Halbarad to stare after him.

**3019, February 10**

_Not even my turn, and I still_ _wake up in time for taking the early morning watch._ Halbarad thought as he woke up. Then his dream came back to him. Yet again, he had relived the attack on the Ranger camp, only now when he slit the sentry’s throat, the face he saw in the moonlight was Halmir’s, not Daeron’s. _It’s not real. Just a dream. It did not happen._ _But had he been on guard, it would have made no difference to me then._ He repeated to himself ‘ _It did not happen,’_ and gradually he felt his racing heart slow down again.

Halbarad glanced at the sleeping men in the camp, then pulled his cloak around him tightly, and looked at where the standard lay in its cover.

**3019, March 4**

“Listen! There are riders drawing near,” Legolas said as Théoden and the others came up to the Fords of Isen.

Aragorn listened closely, but he heard nothing yet. There had been wolf howls on the wind before, though they had fallen silent now, and the warning from the Elf was enough to have the Rohirrim halt and seize their spears. Aragorn dismounted and drew his sword as he took up position next to the king’s stirrup.

The sound of hoofs from across the Fords was unmistakable now. The moon came out from behind the clouds, revealing the dark shapes of riders approaching swiftly, the light glinting on the points of their spears.

“Halt! Halt! Who seeks to enter Rohan?” Éomer called out when the strangers came up to the road from the Fords, some fifty paces away.

The oncoming riders stopped abruptly, and almost immediately one dismounted and walked forward slowly. He held up his hand to show he came in peace, but Aragorn grasped his sword tightly.

The stranger stopped only when he was about ten paces away from the Rohirrim. He was tall, and had his hood drawn low over his face. In the moonlight he was little more than a shadow. Then he spoke, and Aragorn drew in a sharp breath as he heard his voice.

“Rohan, you say? I am glad to hear that. We have ridden far in haste in search of it.”

“You have found it,” Éomer answered. “But it is the realm of Théoden the King. No one may enter it unless he allows it. Who are you? And what is your haste?”

“Halbarad Dúnadan, Ranger of the North I am,” the man cried out. “We seek one Aragorn son of Arathorn, and we heard that he was in Rohan.”

“And you have found him!” Aragorn ran forward and embraced his kinsman. Halbarad held back for a breath, then held him tightly in return. _Halbarad! And the Grey Company. My brothers. How? Why?_ “Halbarad! Of all joys this is the least expected!”

“All is well,” said Aragorn next, turning back. “Here are some of my own kin from the north. But why they are here, I am sure Halbarad shall tell us.”

“I set out from Rivendell with Elladan and Elrohir to find you, and Borlas led those of the Grey Company who would come to join us,” Halbarad answered.

 _Those who would come…_ “I do not doubt there is more to it than that,” Aragorn said. _I’ll ask later, but perhaps better still to ask Borlas._ “But we ride in haste to Isengard, and all other matters must wait. Ride with us now, if the king will give his leave.”

“It is well!” Théoden agreed. “Now let us go on again. The road is long yet.”

“Long and strange,” Éomer added almost immediately as they came up to the Fords.

 _The water! I have never seen the river so low._ “Is this one of Saruman’s tricks?” Aragorn asked.

“So it would seem,” Gandalf replied. “Yet the crossings are not under his control. A fierce battle has been fought here, and many have fallen,” he said as they crossed the river and came past an eyot upon which a mound ringed with stones had been piled. “Here lie the Men of the Mark who fell near this place.”

Aragorn inclined his head in honour of the dead, then as he looked up again he noticed the way Halbarad was looking at Gandalf.

“What is it?” Aragorn asked.

Halbarad cast another look at Gandalf before answering. “Before we left Rivendell, Master Elrond had received word that Gandalf had fallen. Clearly, that news was untrue.”

“Yes and no,” Aragorn replied, earning him a pointed look from Halbarad. In response, he sighed. “That too is a tale that must needs wait. Now tell me what it is that you bear, kinsman.” For Halbarad bore a tall staff, close-furled in black cloth, rather than a spear.

“This is a gift from the Lady of Rivendell,” Halbarad replied. “Wrought in secret and long in the making. But she also sends word to you: The days now are short. Either our hope cometh, or all hope’s end. Therefore I send thee what I have made for thee. Fare well, Elfstone!”

“Now I know what you bear. Bear it still for me a while!” Aragorn glanced north. _Now indeed to hope we ride, or to all hope’s end._ As they rode on, Halbarad stayed next to him, but left him to his thoughts. _And I ought to ask him more of how he came here, but just now I am just glad to see him and those that came with him._

As they left the Fords behind, the wolves resumed their howling.

**March 5**

_Are we going to ride through the night?_ Halbarad wondered after they had gone several hours without rest, but not long after that one of the Rohirrim signalled a stop. Halbarad watched as Borlas took care of arranging the camp of the Grey Company, then lay back staring at the stars overhead as he drifted off to sleep. _For all my fears beforehand, I can still barely believe how glad Aragorn was to see me._

He felt he had hardly slept before the sentries called out in alarm, waking all the camp. _An attack?_ Halbarad sat up, yet all he could hear were the normal sounds of the night. He remained still, though he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, waiting for whatever threat the sentries had seen to come upon them.

A few stars shone faintly overhead, but along the ground a darkness deeper than the black of night now moved along both sides of the river towards the north. It flowed around their camp, enclosing them within walls of shadow. The air felt close, but the closeness of a warm, damp day outside, rather than the closeness of deep dungeons and walls pressing down.

“Stay where you are!” Gandalf called out as the darkness was upon them. “Draw no weapons! Wait! And it will pass you by!”

_It will? But what is it? Yet I deem Gandalf speaks truth. As uncanny as this darkness is, and though it seems filled with anger, it does not feel as if it is a device of the Enemy._

As the darkness drew closer there were sounds in it, voices whispering and a long rustle that reminded Halbarad of nothing if not the sighing of the wind through tree branches. _Yet there is no wind._ _And now I know what this reminds me of – as if the Old Forest near the Shire had come on a long march to war._

After a time that must have been shorter than it seemed, the darkness passed, as did the sounds that accompanied it. For a while there was silence, and then Halbarad heard a rush of water. _The river has returned!_

Halbarad did not sleep again and as he lay staring up at the sky, the night slowly grew paler, until a grey, sunless dawn came. There were banks of thick fog towards the mountains to the north and to where the river now ran again. The air felt clammy, and the fog smothered what sound there was.

In the morning he again rode with Aragorn, with the Elf and the Dwarf who had set out with the Fellowship behind them sharing a horse – _and there is another_ _story that needs to be told._ Somehow, friendship had sprung between these two who had each barely acknowledged the other’s existence back in Rivendell. Borlas and the Grey Company rode behind them, and Elrohir and Elladan ahead. No one seemed much inclined to speak, and they rode in silence.

 _The land is as grey as the air,_ Halbarad thought as they took the paved road that led towards Isengard. Once it must have been a green country where trees grew tall, but now only burned and hewn stumps were left.

At last, the mists cleared, and by the sun that shone palely, it was already past noon.

Now before them were the doors of Isengard. The doors were as broken as the ground they lay on, and the wall that encircled the tower of Orthanc had fallen and crumbled in many places. Beyond the ruined walls water, steaming and bubbling, wreckage floating in it, covered much of the terrain. _What happened here? Did that darkness last night do this?_

In the broken archway that had held the doors… _Merry and Pippin? And after the merry chase they led Aragorn, they’re sitting there eating and drinking, and smoking…_ Halbarad exchanged a glance with Aragorn, who shrugged and looked amused.

~*~

The water within the walls soon went down enough that there was a path to the tower itself, and the Rohirrim and the Grey Company shortly rode on into the Ring of Isengard with Gandalf. Halbarad remained behind with Aragorn and the hobbits, along with the Elf and the Dwarf. The meal the hobbits had promised them was as good as they said, and afterwards Halbarad leant back in the grass as he listened to the stories and news the others were sharing, and at last learned what had befallen Gandalf. Disturbing as some of the news was, Aragorn was more at ease than Halbarad had seen him in a long time, and he could almost imagine that they were as carefree as they seemed in this moment. _Yet this is no more than a lull in the war against the Enemy, and we cannot remain here._

Gandalf and the others had also stopped to enjoy a good meal from what the hobbits had taken from Saruman’s supplies. Thus they caught up while the others were still some distance away from the tower of Orthanc, slow as their own path was across the rough and treacherous ground.

Halbarad glanced at Borlas, who was gawping at the Ents they saw standing around. _Had we not seen – or rather heard – those Huorns march by last night, or Ents out of legend walk the earth just now, I would not have believed that trees, or anything, could have done this in a single night. I can still scarcely imagine it, though I see it before me and know it is true._

Now, Gandalf would go up to the tower’s great door to speak to Saruman, with only Théoden, Éomer, Aragorn, and Legolas and Gimli with him. Halbarad remained with the Riders and the Grey Company. Borlas gave him an uneasy glance, and Halbarad gave him a small shrug in return. _I know not what to expect either. I just hope Gandalf is right that Saruman will most likely not rain down fire on us, but we’ll see._ At least they could hear clear enough what was being said, as Gandalf had said they would.

As Saruman appeared and spoke to Théoden, Halbarad wanted to clasp his hands over his ears to stop hearing. _How does anyone stand this? He isn’t even speaking to_ me _, but his_ voice _! It seeks to…_ He closed his mind as best he could, but still the voice dripped down from its lofty tower, looking for cracks in his defences.

~*~

“That could have ended much worse,” Elladan said softly as Gandalf and the others came down from the steps of Orthanc.

“Indeed,” Elrohir agreed. “Yet I still find it hard to believe, not that Saruman has proven false, but for how long he deceived all, even within the White Council.”

Elladan grimaced as they picked their way across the broken terrain towards where their horses were waiting. “And I’ll be glad to be gone from here – I remember when the Ring of Isengard was full of fair trees and a pleasant place to be, although without doubt the Ents have improved it from what it became since then.”

“Didn’t we accompany Father for a meeting of the White Council when we came here?”Elrohir added.

 _Yes_ , Elladan replied. _And on our way back we stopped at an inn in Tharbad for a few days to meet up with Argonui_.

~*~

_Elladan! Give me a hand with the horses and let Halbarad have some rest from your scrutiny! You have barely given him a moment’s peace since we left Imladris._

Elladan shrugged, but came over to hold Elrohir’s horse as his brother inspected its legs. _Or you could ride a horse that isn’t as sensitive about her legs being touched._

 _Buttercup is a lady_ , Elrohir replied. _And she’s faster than that nag of yours_.

_Nag? Best not let Arwen hear that. Thunder’s dam was a gift from her._

Elrohir snorted in amusement. _So is Buttercup in case you had forgotten. Still, this is a better place to rest than nearer Isengard._ He drew in a deep breath of clean night air.

 _I could have gone on riding through the night. Look at how the moonlight falls on the plain_. Elladan’s horse gave him a nudge as he stood looking.

Elrohir laughed softly, and glanced at where their companions were making their camp. Aragorn yawned as he stood talking to some of the Rangers. The others looked no less weary. _Thunder may agree, but I doubt anyone else would. It has been a hard day, and we rode long into the night._

 _Even so…_ Elladan replied, looking wistfully at the plain before them.

“But let us get a bite to eat, and then rest. Tomorrow will be another long day. And _stop_ staring at Halbarad! Come along. We could both use something warm to eat.”

_Elrohir!_

He turned around. Elladan was _still_ watching Halbarad.

_Elrohir! Go find Estel. Something is wrong._

As before, Halbarad was by himself, some distance from the others, but he had turned north and was staring in the direction of Isengard.

Elrohir hesitated for a moment, but when Elladan, who had now reached Halbarad, called him again, he shouted in mind to Aragorn. _Estel! Come!_

Aragorn looked up. Elrohir indicated Elladan and Halbarad, and motioned him to come over quickly.

“Halbarad!” Elladan said just as Elrohir came up to them. Halbarad did not react at all.

“What is it?” Aragorn came up running. “Halbarad!”

Elrohir stopped Elladan as Aragorn reached out to put a hand on his friend’s arm.

_Elladan, let him. Halbarad is no danger to Estel._

Elladan had been about to step in between Aragorn and Halbarad, but now held back. _If you’re wrong, I’ll leave it to you to explain to Arwen._

Halbarad took a shuddering breath.

 _Does he even know where he is?_ Elrohir wondered as he saw Halbarad’s wild-eyed gaze.

Halbarad took another deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. “I…I know that voice.”

“What voice?” Aragorn.

“Saruman’s voice.” Halbarad’s breathing was ragged. “I’ve heard it before.”

“When?” Elladan spoke sharply.

 _“_ After I was first captured,” Halbarad replied slowly, not looking at any of them. “It…it was dark when I woke, and I…” He took a deep breath. “Saruman’s was the voice asking me my name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve done some violence to the canon timeline to allow Halbarad’s presence at Isengard.
> 
> Parts of this chapter are based on “The Road to Isengard,” “Flotsam and Jetsam,” “The Voice of Saruman” ( _The Two Towers,_ book III, ch. 8-10), and “The Passing of the Grey Company” ( _The Return of the King,_ book V, ch. 2).
> 
> Some text has been taken verbatim from these chapters, other scenes have been paraphrased.


	14. Chapter 14

**3019, March 5**

“If you wish it, I will leave.”

“What? Why?” Aragorn looked confused.

“Wormtongue.”

“Wormtongue? What about him?” a new voice asked from behind him.

Halbarad turned around to find Éomer looking at him for an explanation. _How do I even begin to…?_ He glanced at Aragorn.

“Éomer knows of what happened to you,” Aragorn said quickly.

 _And if Éomer knows, then so does Théoden, yet the King allowed me to remain in his party. But will he after he learns of this_? Halbarad took a deep breath and met Éomer’s curious gaze.

“It was Saruman who hunted down my patrol and first held me imprisoned.” At Éomer’s look he added, “I only recalled just now that I had heard his voice long before this afternoon.”

Éomer gave him another curious look, then turned to Aragorn and led him off to speak quietly some distance away.

 _I offered to go, and I will be sent away_ , Halbarad thought as he watched Éomer and Aragorn. _But so be it. Aragorn has the standard and the Grey Company. He’s riding to war, he needs the Rohirrim more than he needs me._

Yet when the two returned, Éomer looked at him kindly. “I look forward to riding beside you and your men in battle, Halbarad Halladanion,” he said.

Halbarad stared after him as he returned to the other Rohirrim.

“Should Mithrandir not know this?” Elladan asked as soon as Éomer had left.

Halbarad took an involuntary step back.

Aragorn glanced at Halbarad, then looked sternly at Elladan. “In the morning. It can wait.”

Halbarad drew a shaky breath as Aragorn turned to him. _What if the wizard wants to see into my thoughts? I cannot…_

“You should rest if you can,” Aragorn said. “We all should. Tomorrow will be another long day.”

~*~

 _Rest_. Halbarad pulled his cloak around him and lay on his back, staring up at the night sky _. I doubt rest will come to me tonight, though Aragorn is right. I should at least try to sleep._

As Halbarad closed his eyes, it felt as if he was back in what he now knew must have been Isengard or some other place under Saruman’s control. _It’s just the normal darkness of night._ He tried to breathe, but the air seemed stifling, musty. _I am not restrained, I have no head wound. It’s just a memory_.

Halbarad opened his eyes again, and drew a deep breath, holding on to the clean night air and the scent of grass against the memory of the darkness in which he had been held. _If Saruman had spoken to me, could I have shaken off the effect of his voice as Théoden did?_ The scar behind Halbarad’s ear itched fiercely, and he resisted the urge to scratch it. _I got this and the scar on my leg from his Orcs, and we lost good men that day. I would question why he was so desperate to capture a Ranger, but we had just increased our guard on the Shire, and he must have had suspicions about the Ring._ Halbarad shivered.

**3019, March 6**

When Elrohir woke up, all he knew was that someone had screamed. He stood up quickly trying to find Halbarad, but the Ranger was also looking to find the source of the disturbance. _Not him. Who then?_

 _Over there!_ A cluster of people was already gathering, and when Elrohir came closer, he saw the hobbit Pippin was at the centre of the group. Mithrandir had knelt down beside him, clearly tending to him. _Best to give them some space. Where’s Elladan? Oh, there_. Whatever had happened seemed over now, though Pippin was visibly shaken as Mithrandir returned him to where the hobbits had slept before.

“What happened?” Elladan asked Aragorn as soon as he joined the others.

Aragorn looked troubled as he indicated the Orthanc-stone on the ground. “The stone Wormtongue threw at us is a palantír. Pippin looked in it. It seems he found the Enemy waiting for him.”

“And had I been quicker in Isengard, I could have stopped the hobbit,” Mithrandir announced as he returned. “We have had a narrow escape.”

“How is he?” Aragorn asked.

“As well as can be, and hopefully he will remain that way,” Mithrandir answered. “Hobbits recover quickly, and he was not held long. He will probably forget fast, or at least forget the horror fast. Too fast, I fear. Aragorn, will you take and guard the Stone of Orthanc? It is dangerous.”

“It is, but not to all,” Aragorn replied. “For this is indeed the palantír of Orthanc, from Elendil’s treasury, and placed here by the Kings of Gondor. Now my hour draws near. I will take it.”

Mithrandir gave Aragorn a long look, before he lifted the covered Stone, and presented it to him with a bow.

 _Thus our little brother comes into another part of his inheritance_ , Elladan observed proudly. _Yet also the nature of the link between Isengard and the Dark Tower is revealed_.

“At what cost?”Elrohir asked in reply and glanced up at the clear night’s sky, his heart suddenly heavy in his chest. _Elladan is ill at ease too…_

Then a cold shadow fell, and the light disappeared as if a cloud had passed over the Moon.

“Nazgûl!” Legolas and Mithrandir both cried out. Legolas drew his bow and took aim but lowered it again almost immediately, as above them the vast winged beast that carried the Wraith turned and rapidly flew north.

“Nazgûl indeed,” Elladan muttered to Elrohir as they both sought to shake off the effect of its passage. Most of the others were still staring up at the sky in shock.

Mithrandir was the first to recover. “Nazgûl! Mordor’s messengers. They have crossed Anduin. Ride! Do not wait. Ride!”

**3019, March 7**

“Halbarad! Wake up,” Aragorn said softly and waited. _I wish I could let him sleep, but we cannot even remain a day here at the Hornburg before we must go on again._

“Is it time to go?” Halbarad mumbled after yawning and blinking a few times.

“Not quite,” Aragorn said, “though Théoden and his Riders are preparing to set off for Edoras already. But I am troubled and would like your counsel on some matters. Come with me if you would and bring the standard.”

“Of course,” Halbarad answered, though he looked puzzled at the second part of Aragorn’s words.

Aragorn led him up several stairs, until they reached the room he had been told he could use. The lock on the door stuck at first, but it finally turned. The room was dusty and had clearly not been used for some time. Two windows let in the watery noonday sunlight, showing empty shelves along all walls. Aragorn placed the bag that held the palantír on the table in the centre of the room and gestured at Halbarad to put the standard against the wall next to the door.

“I hope there’s at least breakfast in that bag of yours,” Halbarad gave him a sly look. “I already feel like we have sneaked off like Ranger trainees wanting to avoid their chores. We might as well complete it with stealing bread from the kitchens of the Rohirrim.”

“Alas.” Aragorn gave a quick grin. “I did not bring breakfast.” _I must not take his mood for granted, yet it is a delight to see his spirits so raised._

“Then what troubles you so much that it spoils not just your rest, but mine also?” Halbarad asked.

“I’d gladly have let both of us sleep the day away.”

“Yet you didn’t. And as we are both awake, you may as well share what bothers you.”

“Halbarad, why did you come south?” _He already gave me_ one _answer, but I could have given it for him. Arwen asked him, duty, necessity, foresight…_ __

It took a long time for Halbarad to answer. “I cannot undo the evils I have done, but I can still perhaps do some good in opposing the Enemy. And… I am grateful to, to have the chance to ride beside you once again.”

“I too am glad to have you at my side again.”Aragorn held Halbarad’s gaze until the other looked away. He thought back to when he had first seen Halbarad again, years ago now. _He was brought before me in shackles_ , _a repentant enemy who bore a friend’s face, seeking judgement, and wracked by guilt and despair_. _And once we discovered the truth of what had been done to him, I soon called him friend again. But it took much longer before hope was renewed in his eyes or before I saw the burden of guilt over all he had been made to do lift even slightly. Even now it is still there._

“But that is not why I asked you here now,” Aragorn said at last with a shake of his head. “You also heard Gandalf last night as he advised me to wariness, and against proceeding too boldly.”

“Yes, just before he urged everybody to ride away in haste! And now you plan indeed to proceed boldly?”

“Yes, indeed,” Aragorn replied, acknowledging Halbarad’s knowing look with a nod. _I do wish that Gandalf had not rushed off before he could learn of Saruman’s involvement in Halbarad’s capture, though we hardly needed this further proof of his duplicity._ “The Nazgûl last night did not fly to Isengard over our visit there, but when he returns, he will still carry word of what happened to the Black Land.”

Halbarad nodded as Aragorn went on.

“Time presses. In that, Gandalf was right. We must act ourselves, rather than wait to react. And...” Aragorn hesitated. _For all that Halbarad knows of the Ring and the Quest, I still feel uneasy to speak of them openly._ “…we must draw the Enemy’s eye to ourselves. Away from Isengard, perhaps, but even more away from his own borders.” _I could not go with Frodo, but I can still offer some aid to the Quest, little as it may turn out to be._

Halbarad looked troubled. “Then what do you have in mind?”

Aragorn glanced at the bag that held the palantír. “Draw Sauron’s eye here in a manner he cannot ignore.”

Halbarad followed Aragorn’s glance, then looked at the wrapped standard and inhaled sharply. “You…” He shook his head. “That should certainly get the Enemy’s attention.”

“I hope so.” Aragorn smiled grimly.

“There is little I can say, except that I trust that you have considered the dangers.” Halbarad thought for a moment before he went on. “Would it not be better to speak to Elladan or Elrohir, or do you fear that they might stop you from acting overly rash?”

“Which you would never attempt of course,” Aragorn retorted, then cursed at himself when Halbarad floundered and would not meet his gaze. _That was a quip too far. He still fears to overstep what he thinks is his place, fears to be as he was, friend and counsellor rather than only another of my men._

Aragorn went on as if naught had happened. “They might counsel against taking risks, but I doubt it.” He spoke softly now, as if only to himself. “Did not Elrohir give me Father’s message to consider the Paths of the Dead if I am in need of haste? I need that haste, but if the Eye is not drawn away from his own borders, it may still be in vain.”

“Then you are set on your course?”

“I am.” Aragorn tried to show a calm he was not feeling. _I am set on this, and yet I dread it too._ Halbarad’s expression made it clear his friend saw through him.

“I see,” Halbarad said. “And you are set also on attempting this alone?”

 _My brothers would support me – once they finished yelling at me for wanting to take such a risk, but I cannot ask this of them, and not just because I don’t want to draw Sauron’s eye to Rivendell_. “I could not ask anyone to–”

“You do not need to ask.” Halbarad spoke quickly, as if the words were escaping before he could stop them.

“Halbarad! You cannot–”

“But you can? Aragorn, you are right. We must act, not wait. But even if there is little I can do to help, you should not stand alone,” Halbarad said. “And if you do not want to ask your brothers, there are few others to ask.”

Aragorn sighed, yet when he looked at Halbarad he knew he could not refuse him _. I want to fight side by side with him again. But can I put him in this danger, knowing what he’s been through? Yet he made the offer of his own will, and from the same wellspring of courage that has brought him this far._

Halbarad spoke softer as he went on. “I _want_ to challenge the Enemy with you… but what if the Enemy somehow knows me when he sees me beside you? It might endanger you further.”

“Further than engaging Sauron in the palantír already will?”Aragornsmiled and shook his head. “Even if he does know you, your being there would be a puzzle to distract him. Saruman did not even look at you twice yesterday,” Aragorn said. “And he held you captive for who knows how long. We know you were never taken before the Enemy, so at worst he knows _of_ you.” _And I still wonder how Halbarad ended up with the Mouth when it was Saruman who had him first. I do wish there had been time to talk to Gandalf about it._ __

“I…” Halbarad shook his head.

“I am not being reckless,” Aragorn said softly. “Not with myself and not with you.”

“I know.” Halbarad met his gaze, his mood unreadable to Aragorn. “Why do you trust me?” he asked abruptly. “Why do you value my counsel when you saw what…”

“I have always valued your counsel,” Aragorn started. “If this is about your fear that you are like Wormtongue, you are not. No matter what Saruman may have done to bend him further to his will, his betrayal was his own choice. And Saruman could not even get your name off you when he had you in his grasp, let alone anything else.”

“I had a dent in my skull and barely knew it myself,” Halbarad protested.

“What is it that you fear?” Aragorn held Halbarad’s gaze. “I see no treason in you.”

“No _willing_ treason.” Halbarad looked down. “What if there is some flaw, some darkness, in me that the Enemy might use to make me turn on you? What if that is why I was captured?”

“I do not fear that,” Aragorn said. “I’ll say it again: Saruman did not look at you twice yesterday, let alone speak to you. It is clear enough to me why he wanted to capture a Ranger at that time, but you were taken by sheer ill luck, I deem. Had you died of your wounds or had the attempt failed entirely, Saruman would have tried again until he could seize another.”

“I suppose so,” Halbarad admitted.

“Look at me!” Aragorn managed to sound stern, and Halbarad obeyed immediately. “I know so. What did you feel when you recognised Saruman’s voice?”

“Anger,” Halbarad replied, and, slower, “fear.” He looked down, then met Aragorn’s gaze again.

“What else?”

“Relief,” Halbarad murmured.

“Relief? Why?” _I can guess why, but I think you need to say it._

“Because I finally knew. I still don’t remember more than a few glimpses of that time, but to know even _this_ much…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and looked down again.

 _Oh, my brother!_ “Remember that neither the Mouth nor Saruman could get even your name from you,” Aragorn said. “I trust your strength as I trust my own.”

“Then so be it.” Halbarad took a deep breath. “I will stand beside you against the Enemy and his servants, here and elsewhere.”

“Thank you.” Aragorn briefly gripped Halbarad’s shoulder, then turned towards the table where the palantír, hidden in its bag, lay. “When I look in the palantír, you should stand on my left with the standard. I don’t want to bring you into the contact, so do not touch me, unless something is amiss. If you do see any sign that the Enemy gains the upper hand and controls me, stop me before I can betray the Quest. Cover the palantír, throw it on the ground, knock me out, put a knife in me if you must, but stop me.”

Halbarad gave him an unblinking stare and swallowed hard. “Then I hope that has a good lock,” he said at last as he nodded at the room’s door. “Because if it hasn’t, and your brothers walk in and see you looking into the palantír and me with a knife at your back, my lord falling under the Enemy’s dominance will be the least of my problems.”

Aragorn gave him a disbelieving look. “Halbarad, was that a joke?” He put his hand on Halbarad’s arm. “Trust me. It will be well.” _Or so I hope._

**3019, March 8**

The sun had not yet risen, and the early morning shadows still lay darkly on their road as the Rangers set off from Dunharrow to the Dwimorberg. Halbarad attempted a furtive glance at Aragorn, but – as if he felt the look – his kinsman immediately turned in the saddle and gave him a quick nod. _I don’t think_ _I’ve ever seen him so tired. Except for this one night, we’ve barely rested since the Hornburg – nay, since before Isengard –, but at last he looks better than right after he looked into the palantír._

Halbarad rubbed at his eyes. _In truth, though I was not tested as severely as Aragorn, I could have slept the rest of the day. But weariness isn’t the worst of it, for either of us._ He shivered at the memory of the Dark that had risen up over them like a great wave about to break. Even at one remove it had battered at his defences, now tempting and cajoling, now threatening and trying to overwhelm. _When I offered to stand by Aragorn in this… For all that I have seen of the Shadow, I thought, no, I_ hoped _I was prepared for what I would face, after the Mouth, after Saruman. Yet as terrible as it was, Aragorn was strong enough and mastered the Seeing Stone._ _And now we ride in haste again to outrun the storm he called up._

As they rode further into the deep shadows under the Haunted Mountain, the ancient stones that lined their road gave way to a gloomy forest. The black trees of the Dimholt darkened the mood of all, and Halbarad distractedly noted that even the Elf Legolas had nothing good to say about their surroundings.

Halbarad would have been relieved when they came to the end of the wood, were it not for the single stone that stood in the middle of their road. _That stone is a threat and a sign. What lies beyond?_ Roheryn and the other Rivendell horses were restless at nearing the stone but obeyed their riders and went past. Yet the Rangers’ horses refused to go past until the men dismounted and led them.

Halbarad resisted the temptation to glance over his shoulder – _who would follow us_ here _? –_ once all their company had passed the stone and entered deeper into the glen that lay behind it. A look up and ahead showed that by the shadows on the mountain it was not even noon yet. _Though for what sense of time I have kept, it may be the noon of an entirely different day_.

Finally, the road ran towards a rock wall, and in the wall a dark door with a heavy arch over it. There were signs carved along the arch, but they were so faded that Halbarad could not even make out what script they had been made in.

At the stone they had passed before, the horses had been uneasy until their riders had dismounted and led them past it. _Now I doubt any will even enter, as afraid as they are._ Halbarad’s horse pranced in place restlessly, as he cast a look at the other Rangers. _As are the men. Borlas was first past the stone back there, now he can barely look at our road. Not that I blame him for it. That door chills my blood._ Even with his thoughts closed, Halbarad still felt the cold darkness that flowed from the door. _The Dead who dwell here were cursed by Isildur for breaking their oaths to him – can one who broke his oaths to Isildur’s heir enter this place and not fall under their doom?_ He managed not to shudder at the thought, but both Aragorn and Elrond’s sons gave him worried glances. _Yet w_ _hether or not I will emerge unscathed, to stay back is to be forsworn in truth. I betrayed friendship and duty once before, I will not do so again._

Halbarad dismounted and walked forward to gaze into the darkness beyond the door. He nearly stepped back again at the frozen hatred he felt from within. Instead, he drew a deep breath and turned his back on the door to speak. “This is an evil door, but I have faced evil darker and viler. As little as I like it, I will dare to pass it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this chapter are based on “The Palantír,” ( _The Two Towers,_ book III, ch. 11), and “The Passing of the Grey Company” ( _The Return of the King,_ book V, ch. 2).
> 
> Some text has been taken verbatim from these chapters, other scenes have been paraphrased.


	15. Chapter 15

**3019, March 25**

Aragorn’s hands tightened on Roheryn’s reins as he glanced at those who rode with him towards the Black Gate and spared a thought for the brave and good men behind them. _For all that they chose to come here, I am leading them to their deaths._

Halbarad rode beside him, the standard still furled. He gave Aragorn a quick nod when their eyes met.

_But we never set out with hope of success other than to distract the Enemy from his true danger, and as long as Frodo succeeds, the fate of any of us in this foul place matters little._

Then, as they came within cry of the gate, Aragorn gave a sign to his companions. As the small group of riders came to a halt, he nodded at Halbarad to display the standard.

~*~

As soon as Halbarad raised the standard, the heralds cried out their challenge towards the silent gate before them.

“Come forth! Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Justice shall be done upon him. For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he should atone for his evils, and depart then for ever. Come forth!”

Silence.

Halbarad’s grip on the standard tightened and he glanced up at the impenetrable doors towering over them. _He_ will _respond. But how? A rain of arrows? Fire? The Nazgûl diving down on us?_

A long roll of drums, a deafening blast of trumpets, and the middle door of the Black Gate opened. Out rode the Dark Tower’s embassy to answer the challenge that had been issued.

At its head…

A tall man dressed in black, riding a black horse. The horse bore a mask of a skull on its head, flame burning in its eyes and nostrils.

Halbarad forced himself to breathe deeply, slowly, as the Mouth approached and halted only a few paces away from the Captains of the West. The other’s glance slid past him, then flicked briefly back.

A chill ran down Halbarad’s back. _He knows me._

The Mouth ignored him, studied the Captains for a few moments, then laughed.

“Is there anyone in this rout with authority to treat with me?’ he asked. “Or indeed with wit to understand me?” He looked long at Gandalf, but at last turned his attention to Aragorn. “Not thou at least.”

The Mouth’s gaze was on Aragorn and the others in their party, yet Halbarad felt as if someone was trying to open a door in his head, and he closed his mind as tightly as Master Elrond had taught him.

_There are no doors. Only walls._

Still the other attempted to probe his thoughts – now no longer rummaging around to find a door, but almost as if the walls of his mind were made of wood, and a fire was being set. His surroundings faded from his sight and hearing even as the Mouth spoke to Gandalf, and the hobbit Pippin cried out at the things the Mouth showed them that were Frodo’s and Sam’s.

 _Stone. Smooth and cold. Your fire cannot touch it_.

Halbarad’s free hand tightened on his sword.

The pressure on the outside of his mind lessened – yet next the Mouth somehow reached out for the wall he had once left inside Halbarad’s head. Over time, Halbarad had learned to think around it, but now the wall seemed to grow and take up more and more space in his head. _No!_ Halbarad thought, and he reached for the memory of the Sea that had come back to him in Rivendell, and let it wash over the wall. The water was not enough to wash away the wall, but it shrank back to what it had been, and he knew he had driven back the Mouth. _For now._

Then the pressure of the Mouth’s mind fell away entirely – abruptly enough to leave Halbarad lightheaded, unsteady in the saddle – as Gandalf came forward to take the tokens of Frodo and Sam. Halbarad gasped for breath. Even with his thoughts closed, he could feel the Mouth’s anger – _and fear?_ – as Gandalf rejected his terms. Yet the Mouth soon regained his composure, and he sat his horse as if naught had happened.

 _He_ is _shaken, though he hides it well._ Halbarad could not hold back a smirk.

At that, the Mouth cast a look burning with rage at Halbarad. Halbarad met his gaze unwaveringly, though his head felt as if he had been punched with the other’s mail glove.

Yet when next the Mouth spoke, he turned his attention to Aragorn once more, not Halbarad.

 _He has at last realised what he failed to look into all these years_ , Halbarad knew.

“I see you’ve picked up a stray dog I lost,” the Mouth spoke to Aragorn. “You should be careful, for the cur is treacherous. But ah, it was yours to begin with, was it not? When I take it back, I’ll have to retrain it again as a proper attack dog. It needs a firm hand to be useful.” He laughed mockingly.

_Train again._

_Proper attack dog._

_Firm hand._

Halbarad saw before him a mire of blood, circled by flame, and the Mouth behind him, driving him towards it.

 _I’ll die first!_ he answered, and as he drove his horse forward, he drew his sword. The Mouth was startled, and had had only begun to draw his own sword when Halbarad’s blade swept at him in a wild slash.

 _I hope I didn’t get blood on the standard_ , Halbarad thought as his opponent’s head fell on the dusty ground with a dull thud.

~*~

“Had you not done it, I would have,” Aragorn yelled as they raced back to their own line, still well ahead of the hosts of Mordor that had started pouring out of the Black Gate behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on “The Black Gate Opens” ( _The Return of the King,_ book V, ch. 10), and the corresponding scene from Peter Jackson’s _Return of the King_ , the Extended Edition.
> 
> Some text has been taken verbatim from this chapter, other lines have been paraphrased.


	16. Chapter 16

**3019, July 9**

Elrond slowly closed the door behind him and walked into the kitchen garden next to the King’s House. Out here, the scent of lavender and the chirping of crickets were almost overwhelming, but the fresh midnight air was a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. _I may have been living in the north too long if I feel uncomfortable from even a mild southern summer_.

He shrugged as he knelt down to rub at a plant’s leaves and inhaled the scent with a soft sigh of appreciation. _Basil. At home it does best in the greenhouse or in sheltered corners, but here in Minas Tirith it will thrive outside. There are upsides to the warmer weather._ When he stood up again, he noticed that he was not the only one to prefer the outside over the close air inside.

There was a man sitting on the low stone border around one of the plant beds, in a corner of the garden untouched by the light from the buildings alongside. Even to Elrond’s sight the other was little more than a dark shape outlined by the low light. The man did not react when Elrond came nearer, and Elrond wondered whether his approach had even been noticed.

Then he looked up and Elrond saw his face.

“Well met, Halbarad,” he said softly.

“Master Elrond.” Halbarad hastily stood up as Elrond walked over to him.

“No need to stand on my behalf,” Elrond said and sat down on the stone border himself. As Halbarad also sat down again, Elrond scrutinised him more closely. Halbarad’s eyes were gleaming with moisture. Next to him, Elrond noticed a folder piece of paper. “My apologies for disturbing you,” he said.

Halbarad shook his head. “No apology needed.” He looked at the ground for a few moments, his fingers digging lightly into the soil of the plant bed. “Master Elrond,” he said eventually, “you may have heard Aragorn asked me to form and lead the company of his household knights.”

“That is…” Elrond started.

“…A great honour?”  Halbarad nodded. “It is, and I accepted gladly.”

“And yet?”

“And yet,” Halbarad repeated, looking down. “Sometimes, I still feel that I don’t deserve any of this, that he deserves better than my paltry service.” He remained silent for some time, then rubbed at his neck and looked up again to meet Elrond’s gaze. “Even so, I am glad not just to serve my king, but to stand next to Aragorn in friendship again. He truly is more great-hearted than I would have dared hope. Master Elrond, the day of the trial... After you spoke, I didn’t know whether to thank you for my life or curse you for it.” He blinked a few times. “Now, I know. And I wish I could say it better than a mere ‘thank you’.”

Now it was Elrond’s turn to look away. “Halbarad,” he said when he met the other’s gaze once more, “I need no thanks other than to see you so well again.” _Not entirely healed, but better than_ I _had dared hope._

Halbarad did not say anything more at first, but after some moments he picked up the letter Elrond had noticed before, and gestured with it as he spoke, his expression wistful.

“And then there is this.”

“Ill news?” Elrond asked.

“I don’t know.” Halbarad looked as uncertain as he sounded, but then he took a deep breath and hope returned in his eyes. “It’s from my w…from Dineth. She wants to talk to me. To meet. Together with Haldan.” Halbarad stood up and looked north as if he could see across the miles. “I dare not hope for reconciliation, but even just to see her – them…”

Elrond was not sure whether these last words were meant to be heard by him, but there was a bounce in Halbarad’s steps when the other went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter, so I'm marking the story as finished. There will be an author's notes chapter at some point though, but I don't know when I'll get around to that (and it probably won't be very exciting *g*).


	17. Author's notes

**General notes:**

This story is the result of a long-standing vague idea I had of writing something where Aragorn and Halbarad have a falling-out. It metamorphosed into the plotbunny from hell when Cairistiona pointed out the parallels of Halbarad and Aragorn’s friendship and that of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. So, though it’s not a cross-over or a literal transposition, I ended up dragging large parts of the storyline of _Captain America: the Winter Soldier_ into Middle-earth.  

I thank Cairistiona wholeheartedly both for her pushing the idea on me and for her dedication in betaing the resulting story. It is all her fault! Or at least some of it...

**Characters in order of appearance**

_Canon:_

Ch.1

Gandalf  
Aragorn  
Glorfindel  
Elladan  
Elrohir

Ch.2

Halbarad

Ch.3

The Mouth of Sauron

Ch.4

Elrond

Ch. 11

Ivorwen

Ch. 12

Bilbo Baggins

Ch. 13

Arwen  
Legolas  
Théoden  
Éomer  
Merry Brandybuck  
Pippin Took  
Saruman

_Non-canon:_

Ch.1

Halmir (Ranger, son of Halbarad)  
Daeron (Ranger, lieutenant of the Fornost Company and Halbarad’s wife’s brother)  
Marach (Ranger, Captain of the Fornost Company)

Ch.2

Brandir (Ranger, Captain of the East Road Company)  
Gelmir (Dúnedain child)  
Khûlthaz (Orc)  
Ufthag (Orc)

Ch.3

Urthel (Ranger)  
Hador (Ranger, lieutenant of the East Road Company)  
Rannir (Ranger, healer)

Ch.4

Dineth (Halbarad’s wife)  
Haldan (Halbarad’s younger son)  
Borlas (Ranger, Captain of the Grey Company)  
Bregor (seneschal of the Keep in Caras Dirnen, former Ranger)  
Mallor (Dúnadan, member of the Council of the Angle)  
Edrahil (Dúnadan, member of the Council of the Angle)

Ch.7

Baghdonk (Orc)

Ch. 9

Hatholdir (Dúnadan, member of the Council of the Angle)

Ch. 10

Imlach (Dúnadan, Bregor’s assistant)

Ch. 11

Magol (Ranger)  
Saeros (old man, former Ranger, and Magol’s grandfather)  
Galdir (Elf of Rivendell)

Ch. 12

Bellas (Elf, Rivendell’s Master of Arms)

Ch. 13

Gelmir (Ranger of the Grey Company)  
Beleg (Ranger of the Grey Company)  
Sador (Ranger of the Grey Company)

**Places:**

_Canon:_

Rivendell  
The Fords of Isen  
Isengard  
The Hornburg  
The Paths of the Dead  
The Black Gate  
Minas TIrith

_Non-canon:_

Dúnedain farms in the lands north of the Road and west of the river Hoarwell  
Caras Dirnen (the capital of the northern Dúnedain in the Angle)

**Chapter notes:**

The later chapters contain some references to book and movie scenes. Some text has been used verbatim, other lines have been paraphrased.

Parts of chapter 13 are based on “The Road to Isengard,” “Flotsam and Jetsam,” “The Voice of Saruman” (The Two Towers, book III, ch. 8-10), and “The Passing of the Grey Company” (The Return of the King, book V, ch. 2).

The timeline in this chapter has been changed so that Halbarad and the Grey Company meet  Aragorn on the way to, rather than from, Isengard.

Parts of chapter 14 are based on “The Palantír,” (The Two Towers, book III, ch. 11), and “The Passing of the Grey Company” (The Return of the King, book V, ch. 2).

Chapter 15 is based on “The Black Gate Opens” (The Return of the King, book V, ch. 10), and the corresponding scene from Peter Jackson’s Return of the King, the Extended Edition.


End file.
